THE 

WILLIAM  R.  PERKINS 

LIBRARY 

OF 
DUKE  UNIVERSITY 


Rare  Books 


I 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Archive 
in  2010  witin  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


http://www.archive.org/details/reminiscencesofnOOjenk 


%emimscences  of 
oNewell  Sill  Jenkins 


Reminiscences 

of 
Newell  Sill  yen  kins 


Princeton 
Privately  Printed 

1924 


Copyrighted y  igi^,  C.  E.  Jenkins 


Of  this  book  only  forty  copies  have  been  printed 
in  December,  1^24 


J^IK 


MY  DEAR  children:  //  IS  wlth  many  misgivings 
that  I  offer  to  you  this  little  book,  which  your  father 
attempted  to  prepare  for  you  in  response  to  your  often 
expressed  wish  that  he  should  record  for  you  some  of  the 
experiences  of  his  life.  No  one  could  be  more  aware  than 
was  he  of  the  incompleteness  and  imperfections  of  this 
work.  It  was  his  intention  to  alter  it  materially  before  it 
should  come  into  your  hands.  Had  time  and  strength 
been  granted  him,  much  here  written  would  have  been  dis- 
carded, much  new  material  would  have  been  added  and 
the  whole  subjected  to  careful  revision.  He  laboured  under 
the  disadvantages  of  failing  health  and  of  separation 
horn  memoranda  which  would  have  greatly  aided  him  in 
recalling  and  describing  earlier  years.  Often  he  men- 
tioned to  me  that  he  purposely  postponed  touching  upon 
many  experiences,  because  he  confidently  anticipated  be- 
ing in  a  position  to  do  this  more  satisfactorily.  This  ex- 
planation will  account  for  the  omissions,  many  of  which 
you  will  perceive  and  deeply  regret,  and  for  a  certain 
carelessness  in  writing  not  characteristic  of  your  father, 
I  do  not  wish  to  correct  or  change  his  manuscript  in  any 
way,  but  prefer  to  confide  it  as  it  is  to  the  comprehending 
indulgence  of  his  children,  for  whom  alone  it  was  written, 
and  to  whom  it  will  be  a  precious  legacy* 
Tour  devoted  mother, 

Clara  Elizabeth  Jenkins 


Contents 


CHAPTER  ONE 

1840- 

1845 

CHAPTER  TWO 

1845- 

1854 

CHAPTER  THREE 

1854- 

1862 

CHAPTER  FOUR 

1862- 

1866 

CHAPTER  FIVE 

1866- 

1868 

CHAPTER  SIX 

1868- 

1873 

CHAPTER  SEVEN 

1873- 

1880 

CHAPTER  EIGHT 

1880- 

1880 

CHAPTER  NINE 

1875- 

1883 

CHAPTER  TEN 

1883- 

1885 

CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

1885- 

1909 

CHAPTER  TWELVE 

1880- 

1902 

CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 

1880- 

1890 

CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 

1890- 

1893 

CHAPTER  FIFTEEN 

1893- 

1893 

CHAPTER  SIXTEEN 

1898- 

1899 

CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

1896- 

1900 

CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 

1904- 

1907 

3 

27 

47 
72 

89 

115 
142 

163 

191 

205 
227 
248 
262 
296 

345 
360 

380 


CHAPTER  NINETEEN         I907-I9IO  oqS 

CHAPTER  TWENTY              I907-I9I4  aJJ 

CHAPTER  TWENTY-ONE   I9I4-I915  ^^^ 

CHAPTER  TWENTY-TWO  19 16-1 91 6  464 

APPENDIX  .jy 


Illustrations 

Coat  of  arms  of  the  Jenkins  family  5 

Letter  from  Richard  Wagner yi^'^o  201 

Programme,  first  performance  of  Parsifal  202 

Thorwald  334 

Programme,  Banquet,  Paris,  1 9 1  o  410 


%emimscences  of 
dNewell  Sill  Jenkins 


1840         Chapter  One         1845 

AUGUST  16,  I9I4 

LONG  ago  I  promised  my  dear  children  to  write 
^  for  them  reminiscences  of  my  life.  To-day  I  com- 
mence this  otherwise  pleasant  task  at  a  time  when  a 
terrible  war  is  convulsing  Europe,  threatening  to  des- 
troy much  of  the  precious  fruit  of  our  hardly  won  civ- 
ilization, together  with  the  lives  of  unnumbered  inno- 
cent men,  who  have  been  called  to  arms  or  in  other 
ways  fallen  victims  to  relentless  militarism. 

It  was  my  intention  to  begin  this  work  during  the 
coming  winter,  which  we  had  hoped  to  spend  in  Rome, 
but  now,  being  isolated  from  the  world  in  our  beloved 
Thorwald,  although  greatly  comforted  by  the  com- 
panionship of  Leslie  and  Nora  with  their  sweet  baby 
daughter,  Chloe,  I  feel  the  necessity  of  commencing  at 
once,  that  I  may  have  a  constant  source  of  distraction 
of  mind  during  a  time  when  one  is  impelled  to  think 
only  of  this  great  war  and  the  awful  sacrifices  which  it 
demands. 

I  was  born  at  Falmouth,  Barnstable  County,  Mas- 
sachusetts, on  December  29,  1840. 

This  town  was  settled  in  1660  by  fourteen  English 
families  coming  from  Barnstable.  Some  of  them,  prob- 
ably all,  had  been  resident  for  some  years  at  Barn- 


stable,  but  they  appear  to  have  been  chiefly  descend- 
ants of  men  of  Kent  who  had  joined  the  Puritan  move- 
ment in  the  previous  century  and  had  either  come 
from  the  Enghsh  exiles  of  the  Congregational  faith  in 
Holland,  or  directly  from  England,  to  found  a  New- 
England  in  the  New  World. 

Among  them  was  our  direct  ancestor,  John  Jenkins; 
also  Isaac  Robinson,  the  direct  ancestor  of  my  grand- 
mother, Elizabeth  Robinson.  Isaac  Robinson  was  the 
son  of  the  Pastor  of  the  Pilgrims  at  Leyden,  Holland. 
His  father,  the  Reverend  John  Robinson,  originated 
the  expedition  of  the  Mayflower^  He  was  the  most 
enlightened  and  most  generous  Reformer  of  his  time. 
He  wrote  for  the  Mayflower  Pilgrims  a  code  of  rules 
to  govern  their  conduct  in  their  new  settlement.  The 
spirit  of  these  rules  survived  in  the  colonial  govern- 
ment, triumphed  in  the  constitution  of  Massachusetts, 
and  finally  pervaded  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  which  has  been  called  "the  noblest  of  political 
documents." 

John  Jenkins,  from  whom  I  am  descended  in  the 
seventh  generation,  seems  to  have  come  from  a  well- 
known  family  in  Kent.  The  family  coat  of  arms  which 
used  to  hang  in  my  father's  library,  I  had  always  sup- 
posed to  have  come  down  from  him.  This  coat  of  arms 
was  probably  burned  in  a  fire  which  destroyed  Uncle 

*See  Appendix,  notes  i  and  2. 

(     4     ) 


James's  house,  to  which  it  seems  various  family  heir- 
looms had  been  sent  after  our  home  in  Bangor  had 
been  broken  up.  Some  years  ago  I  asked  the  Heralds 
office  in  London  to  look  it  up  and  they  sent  me  what 
seems  to  be  our  crest,  harking  back  to  the  fourteenth 
century.  The  motto,  Perge  sed  Caute,  is  applicable  to 
members  of  our  clan  now  as  then.  It  seems,  however, 
that  we  must  have  been  originally  Welsh,  for  Jenkins 
is  a  Welsh  name  and  the  family  has  always  possessed 
the  Welsh  temperament  and  features. 

In  this  connection  I  am  reminded  of  an  incident 
which  occurred  at  Thorwald  some  seventeen  years 
ago.  We  were  giving  a  dance  and  among  the  guests 
was  Dr.  Giles,  an  English  physician  who  was  very 
fond  of  field  sports.  He  did  hot  know  that  I  had  a  son, 
and  when  Leonard,  who  had  arrived  that  day  from 
America,  came  somewhat  late  into  the  ballroom,  he 
went  up  and  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder  and  called 
out:  "How  are  you,  Bandy  Jenkins!"  As  I  then  came 
up  and  introduced  Leonard,  he  said  to  him,  seeing  his 
mistake:  "But  you  are  the  living  image  of  a  man 
named  Jenkins  with  whom  I  rode  to  hounds  all  the 
last  season  in  Wales."  We  then  had  a  good  chat  upon 
the  subject  of  heredity  and  I  found  Dr.  Giles's  friend 
was  a  Welshman  whose  people  had  always  lived  in 
Wales. 

I  was  reminded  of  a  man  to  whom  I  was  introduced 

(    5    ) 


at  the  Anglo-American  Club  one  day,  who  said  he 
didn't  need  to  be  told  my  name  was  Jenkins,  and  that 
he  could  tell  at  once  that  I  came  from  Barnstable 
County  in  Massachusetts,  because  he  was  the  state 
genealogist  and  knew  the  characteristics  of  nearly  all 
the  families  of  the  first  settlers.  And,  since  we  are 
upon  this  subject,  I  would  add  that  one  evening  when 
we  were  dining  at  the  Stockhausens',  the  baroness 
showed  us  a  photograph  of  the  effigy  of  an  ecclesiastic 
and  asked  us  who  it  was.  We  immediately  said  it  per- 
fectly resembled  her  husband,  our  host.  Then  she  told 
us  it  was  the  photograph  of  the  recently  discovered 
tomb  of  an  abbot  of  his  family,  who  died  five  hundred 
years  ago. 

Falmouth  was  a  typical  New  England  town.  Its 
founders  were  deeply  religious  people,  who  had  sacri- 
ficed property,  home  and  all  that  ordinarily  makes  life 
sweet,  to  find  a  place  for  themselves  where  they  might 
establish  both  a  free  church  and  a  free  state.  They 
began  by  purchasing  the  land  they  desired  from  the 
Indians,  and  treated  them  so  justly  that  they  never 
went  upon  the  warpath  nor  caused  their  white  friends 
any  serious  trouble.  Indeed,  down  to  my  father's  time, 
the  diminishing  descendants  of  these  tribes  from  whom 
the  lands  were  bought  kept  up  friendly  relations  with 
the  whites  and  occasionally  for  a  short  time,  until  the 
wild  instinct  reasserted  itself,  they  would  even  serve 

(    6    ) 


in  my  grandmother's  family.  I  remember  hearing  my 
mother  say  that  when  she  came  as  a  bride  to  my 
father's  house  she  was  at  first  surprised  and  alarmed 
to  find  Indians  upon  such  familiar  terms  with  the  fam- 
ily. She  came  from  Connecticut,  where  relations  with 
the  Indians  had  been  less  peaceful  than  upon  Cape 
Cod,  from  a  locality  where  indeed  there  were  tradi- 
tions of  awful  massacres  and  savage  wars.  She  had 
also  been  more  tenderly  bred  than  was  the  case  with 
the  inhabitants  of  the  seacoast  of  Massachusetts. 

Only  a  hardy  and  adventurous  people  could  have 
established  a  flourishing  colony  in  this  inhospitable 
country,  possessed  of  a  reluctant  soil  and  where  the 
early  settlements  were  nearly  surrounded  by  a  bois- 
terous ocean.  But  these  ancestors  of  ours  were  not 
only  of  an  intrepid  spirit;  they  were  also  inspired  by  a 
great  purpose.  Courage  and  endurance  were  mere  inci- 
dents in  their  character,  the  foundation  of  which  was 
laid  in  faith  in  God  and  in  love  of  liberty.  For  the 
better  part  of  a  century,  the  home  government  left 
them  alone,  and  this  gave  them  time  to  establish  civil 
and  social  conditions  upon  which  the  whole  fabric  of 
American  civilization  has  been  erected.  As  yet  neither 
the  two  conflicts  with  the  mother  country,  nor  the  ter- 
rible Civil  War,  nor  the  growth  of  wealth,  power  and 
luxury  and  of  much  undesirable  immigration  has  been 
able  seriously  to  change  these  conditions.  It  is  for  you 

(    7    ) 


to  do  your  part  in  handing  them  down  to  your  succes- 
sors unaltered,  save  for  improvement  upon  the  same 
lines,  that  this  may  ever  be  one  great  nation,  in  which 
civil  and  religious  liberty  and  equal  rights  before  the 
law  prevail  as  naturally  and  healthfully  as  the  shining 
of  the  sun. 

My  earliest  recollections  of  Falmouth  are  of  a  com- 
munity in  which  a  deeply  religious  spirit  prevailed, 
combined  with  a  great  love  of  adventure.  For  the  first 
two  centuries  after  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  the 
inhabitants  of  New  England  not  only  felled  forests 
and  tilled  the  soil,  but  they  also  found  scope  for  their 
unbounded  energies  in  following  the  sea,  producing  a 
race  of  hardy  sailor  men  the  like  of  which  the  world 
has  scarcely  seen.  Those  who  were  well-to-do  built 
ships  as  a  good  investment,  and  those  less  blessed 
with  property  manned  them.  They  were  engaged  in 
foreign  trade  and  in  the  whale  fishery,  this  latter  being 
the  nursery  of  many  daring  spirits.  My  childhood  was 
tinctured  with  the  flavour  of  the  sea.  In  almost  every 
family  prayers  were  daily  said  for  "those  that  go  down 
to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in  the  great  waters." 
The  town  was  full  of  foreign  curiosities  and  the  talk  of 
successful  or  disastrous  voyages  was  upon  all  lips.  It 
was  customary,  especially  in  fitting  out  a  ship  for  the 
whale  fishery  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  to  appoint  a  cap- 
tain when  the  keel  was  laid;  he  in  turn  selected  his 

(    8    ) 


officers  and  crew.  They  all  knew  each  other  and  were 
on  terms  of  equality  when  on  land,  but  once  at  sea, 
admirable  discipline  reigned.  The  captain  was  king 
and  was  implicitly  obeyed.  In  the  whale  fishery  it  was 
customary  not  only  to  pay  the  officers  and  men,  but  to 
give  to  every  one,  from  the  captain  to  the  cabin  boy, 
an  interest  in  the  profits  of  the  voyage,  and  this  gave 
them  an  especial  inducement  to  work  well  together. 
Those  people  learned  to  love  and  trust  the  sea. 

My  father  used  to  tell  of  a  friend  and  his  wife  who, 
before  the  day  of  railroads,  came  driving  from  Boston 
to  Falmouth  to  make  him  a  visit.  This,  upon  such 
roads  as  then  existed,  required  several  days'  time  and, 
after  the  hospitable  custom  of  the  country,  the  travel- 
lers were  always  welcomed  at  any  house  where  it 
suited  their  convenience  to  stay,  for  stranger  was  then 
a  sacred  name.  One  day  they  stopped  for  dinner  at  a 
handsome  farmhouse,  where  an  elderly  dame  was  liv- 
ing alone  with  her  domestics.  They  asked  her,  after  a 
time,  if  she  had  no  children  to  abide  with  her.  She  re- 
plied :  "Yes,  I  have  seven  sons,  but  they  are  all  at  sea." 
"Don't  you  feel  lonely  without  them?"  "O  yes,  I  used 
to  think  that  I  wanted  one  of  them  to  stay  at  home 
with  me,  and  when  my  youngest  son  came  back  from 
his  last  voyage,  I  asked  him  to  stay.  He  was  a  good 
boy  and  remained  with  me,  but  after  a  time  I  began  to 
worry  for  fear  a  horse  might  kick  him  to  death,  or 

(     9     ) 


some  other  accident  happen,  so  I  begged  him  to  go  to 
sea  again,  and  now  I  know  he  is  safe." 

Which  reminds  me  that,  after  I  had  been  a  member 
of  the  French  Automobile  Club  at  Paris  for  some 
time,  I  read  one  day  on  the  bulletin  board  that  statis- 
tics showed  that  during  the  past  year  there  had  been 
a  greater  number  of  deaths  in  France  from  horses 
than  from  automobile  accidents. 

There  used  to  be  with  us  a  story  of  a  captain  of  a 
whaler  who  was,  even  for  his  time,  a  very  pious  man. 
His  ship  had  been  out  for  a  long  time  without  sighting 
a  whale.  At  last,  on  a  Sunday  morning,  when  the 
crew  was  assembled  for  service,  the  lookout  cried: 
"There  she  blows!"  Instantly  the  boats  were  manned 
and  the  crews  raced  each  other  for  the  whale.  The 
boat  which  first  arrived  had  an  experienced  old  har- 
pooner  at  the  bow,  who  struck  with  his  usual  skill, 
but,  in  the  excitement,  forgot  to  care  for  his  line  suffi- 
ciently, and  as  it  swiftly  ran  out  when  the  great  crea- 
ture dived,  the  rope  caught  the  harpooner  and  carried 
him  deep  into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean.  The  line  was 
quickly  cut  and  the  boat  cruised  about  until,  at  last, 
the  body  came  to  the  surface  and  was  taken  on  board 
the  ship.  After  long  efforts,  the  man  was  resuscitated, 
and  afterwards  the  captain,  whose  conscience  pricked 
him  for  permitting  work  on  the  Sabbath  day,  thought 
he  would  improve  the  occasion  and  solemnly  asked: 

(    lo   ) 


"John,  of  what  did  you  think  as  you  were  about  being 
whirled  into  Eternity?"  "Well,  Cap'n,  I — I  thought 
she'd  turn  out  about  a  hundred  barreler." 

From  the  beginning,  your  forefathers  were  men  of 
note  in  their  little  community.  During  the  Revolu- 
tionary War,  Falmouth,  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  its  origin,  was  devotedly  patriotic. 

Here  I  quote  from  some  lectures,  written  and  deliv- 
ered by  my  father  Charles  Weston  Jenkins  in  1843 
upon  the  "Early  History  of  Falmouth": 

Following  these  simple  records  of  our  ancestors  we  have  ap- 
proached to  the  borders  of  that  time  that  "tried  men's  souls." 
We  look  upon  these  almost  obliterated  records  of  our  fathers, 
we  read  of  their  anxiety,  of  their  frequent  meetings,  and  of  their 
solemn  resolves,  and  all  shows  that  something  portentous  and 
fearful  is  at  hand.  What  means  this  note  of  preparation  ?  Why 
these  storehouses  of  provisions,  why  is  the  youth  of  sixteen  and 
the  sire  of  threescore  furnished  with  the  weapons  of  death?  We 
are  on  the  eve  of  the  Revolution^  we  are  almost  at  the  com- 
mencement of  that  mighty  struggle  that  freed  our  fathers  from 
the  oppressions  of  the  old  world  and  which  enabled  them  to 
bequeath  to  us,  their  descendants,  the  precious  legacy,  more 
precious  than  all  that  silver  or  gold  could  procure,  that  of  civil 
freedom  and  religious  liberty. 

My  great-grandfather,  John  Jenkins,  being  too 
much  needed  at  home  to  go  in  person,  sent,  as  I  have 
heard  from  my  father,  a  substitute  into  the  revolu- 
tionary army.  I  suspect  this  substitute  was  his  negro 

(  II  ) 


slave.  Slavery,  but  of  a  rather  mild  character,  existed 
in  colonial  times  in  Massachusetts.  I  remember  a  copy 
of  a  Boston  newspaper  of  this  period,  carefully  pre- 
served in  a  tin  cylinder  in  my  father's  library.  It  con- 
tained, among  much  else  of  interest,  an  advertise- 
ment, illustrated  by  a  rude  cut,  of  a  jfleeing  negro  with 
a  pack  on  his  shoulder,  and  a  reward  was  offered  for 
the  capture  of  a  "runaway  boy."  Many  references 
have  been  made  by  the  French  officers  who  came  with 
Lafayette  and  Rochambeau  to  the  prevalence  of  an 
American  custom  through  which  a  patriot  who  was, 
for  any  reason,  unable  himself  to  serve,  sent  a  slave  to 
represent  him  in  the  Revolutionary  Army.  These  ne- 
groes served  in  the  ranks  and  were  mixed  indiscrimi- 
nately with  white  men.  I  cannot  remember  in  any  of 
these  passages,  which  I  read  long  ago,  a  single  un- 
favourable foreign  comment  either  upon  the  fidelity  or 
the  valour  of  these  black  soldiers. 

My  grandfather,  Weston  Jenkins,  was  captain  of 
the  Falmouth  Artillery  Company  during  the  War  of 
1812  and  distinguished  himself  by  capturing  a  well- 
armed  privateer  which  wrought  much  harm  to  Ameri- 
can Commerce.  The  Retaliation^  as  she  was  named, 
had  been  an  American  vessel,  the  Revenge,  which  was 
captured  by  the  British,  refitted  in  Halifax,  and 
cleared  as  a  British  privateer  from  Liverpool,  N.  S.> 
on  September  30,  18 14.  She  was  known  along  the 

(    12   ) 


coasts  she  harried,  as  "the  Liverpool  packet."  She  had 
a  crew  of  twenty-seven  men,  and  carried  five  guns,  one 
long  twelve-pounder,  one  long  six-pounder  and  three 
carronades. 

She  left  Long  Island  Sound  on  October  twentieth 
and  was  seen  coming  up  Vineyard  Sound  late  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  twenty-eighth  and  went  to  Tarpaulin 
Cove,  off  Naushon,  for  the  night. 

The  night  was  overcast  and  it  was  proposed,  in  Fal- 
mouth village,  to  try  to  capture  or  destroy  her. 

A  drum  and  fife  brought  volunteers  and  Captain 
Weston  Jenkins  was  chosen  commander  of  the  ex- 
pedition. On  the  sloop  'Two  Friends,  they  sailed 
to  Naushon  and  into  the  cove,  two  men  working  the 
vessel  and  the  rest  lying  flat  on  the  deck. 

They  planned  to  run  alongside  and  board  her,  but 
when  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  the  wind  fell  flat  and 
the  Retaliation,  at  the  same  time,  fired  across  her 
bows,  they  sent  twelve  men  in  the  long  boat  to  take 
her.  As  this  boat  ranged  alongside.  Captain  Jenkins 
stamped  his  foot  and  all  his  crew  appeared  with 
weapons  ready. 

The  British  officer  drew  his  pistol  on  the  captain, 
but  was  told  that  if  a  man  of  them  stirred  they  should 
all  go  to  the  bottom. 

He  threw  up  his  hands  and  came  on  board  with  his 
men. 

(  13  ) 


When  they  were  secured,  the  'Two  Friends  crew  got 
out  their  sweeps,  a  light  breeze  came  up  and  they 
quickly  got  alongside  the  Retaliation  and  rushed  her 
without  the  loss  of  a  man. 

When  wind  and  tide  served  they  worked  the  'Two 
Friends  and  her  prize  to  the  eastward,  and  about  ten 
o'clock  appeared  to  the  anxious  watchers  off  Nobska 
Point.  One  gun  was  fired,  a  preconcerted  arrange- 
ment, to  announce  the  capture  with  no  loss. 

The  men  of  the  Retaliation  were  marched  through 
the  town  and  on  to  Boston  as  prisoners. 

Years  later,  the  captain  of  the  Retaliation,  meeting 
a  Falmouth  man  said, 

"That  Yankee  captain  played  me  a  d d  sharp 

trick,  but  he  treated  me  like  a  gentleman." 

My  grandfather  retained  from  the  privateer  as  his 
share  only  the  table  service  of  glass,  of  which  the  last 
remaining  claret  cup  was  given  by  Cousin  Edward  to 
my  grandson,  John  Francis  Jenkins,  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  his  baptism. 

It  was  this  act  and  the  refusal  to  deliver  up  the  cap- 
tured vessel  and  guns  which  led  to  the  bombardment 
of  Falmouth  in  1814.  My  father  was  then  only  seven 
years  old,  but  he  remembered  being  hurried  off  into 
the  forest,  well  out  of  range,  with  women  and  children. 
My  grandfather  had  asked  for  a  delay  of  the  attack  in 
which  the  non-combatants  could  be  removed.  This 

(  14 ) 


was  granted,  but  my  grandmother,  Elizabeth  Jenkins, 
descendant  of  John  Robinson,  Pastor  of  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  at  Leyden,  insisted  upon  staying,  with  her  do- 
mestics, and  cooking  for  the  men  who  were  lying  in 
the  trenches.  I  believe  a  cannon-ball  touched  the  old 
homestead,  but  did  no  serious  harm  and  in  no  wise 
disturbed  the  serenity  of  its  inmates. 

My  dear  mother  was  also  descended  from  one  of  the 
early  New  England  famihes.  She  and  her  sister,  Eliza 
Bishop,  were  left  orphans  when  children.  Their  grand- 
parents. Dr.  Mark  Newell,  a  beloved  physician  in 
Connecticut,  and  Phebe  Newell,  daughter  of  Rev- 
erend Elijah  Sill,  cared  for  and  educated  them  and 
my  mother  named  me  Newell  Sill  in  memory  of  the 
two  families  from  which  she  immediately  sprang.  She 
and  her  sister,  who  died  in  her  girlhood,  were  noted 
beauties  and  were  as  lovely  in  character  as  in  person. 

Your  own  mother,  Clara  Elizabeth  Upton,  comes 
from  the  well-known  British  family  of  that  name.  To 
quote  from  the  Upton  Memorial: 

The  earliest  Uptons  known  to  us  belonged  to  the  ranks  of 
the  lesser  nobility,  a  class  which,  in  later  days,  was  popularly 
styled  "the  gentry."  Nor  have  their  descendants  lost  their  rela- 
tive importance  in  the  mother  country.  While  cadet  branches 
have  undoubtedly  sunk  to  the  grade  of  yeomen,  in  every  gen- 
eration the  heads  of  several  families  have  ranked  socially  with 
the  first  gentlemen  in  Europe,  and  the  Uptons  have  produced 
their  full  quota  of  scholars,  public  men  and  soldiers  of  high 

(  15  ) 


rank.  In  America,  where  wealth  and  birth  have  had  less  influ- 
ence and  primogeniture  none,  their  history  has  not  been  widely 
different.  During  the  last  seventy-five  years,  many  of  them 
have  acquired  great  wealth  in  mercantile,  manufacturing  and 
financial  careers,  and  others  have  achieved  distinction  in  the 
professions,  in  public  life,  as  scholars  and  as  soldiers,  playing 
a  prominent  part  in  every  scene  of  mental  or  physical  activity 
in  the  history  of  their  country  and  leaving  a  record  upon  local 
and  national  annals  of  which  any  family  might  well  be  proud. 

Your  great-grandfather,  Elias  Upton,  was  a  grad- 
uate of  Harvard.  He  was  a  man  of  quiet  temperament 
and  scholarly  tastes  and  found  a  congenial  occupation 
as  principal  of  the  Academy  of  Bucksport,  Maine. 
This  was  then  an  important  institution,  in  which  both 
boys  and  girls  were  fitted  for  college  or  could  carry  on 
their  education  further  than  was  practicable  in  the 
common  schools.  His  was  a  life  of  great  usefulness  and 
he  was  widely  respected  and  beloved.  He  and  his  beau- 
tiful and  accomplished  wife,  although  by  no  means 
rich,  were  very  hospitable  and  had  the  pleasant  cus- 
tom of  having  extra  places  set  at  table  in  case  some 
theological  students  from  Bangor  might  chance  to 
come  in  or  any  other  of  their  intimates  who  knew  the 
habits  of  the  house. 

Your  maternal  great-grandfather,  Joseph  Robinson 
Folsom  (1788-1854),  was  a  prosperous  merchant  at 
Bucksport,  which  was  open  to  navigation  through  the 
entire  year;  while  Bangor,  eighteen  miles  away,  was 

(  16 ) 


closed  for  many  months  by  ice.  In  the  days  when  there 
was  no  comprehensive  railroad  system  this  was  a  mat- 
ter of  consequence,  from  which  Mr.  Folsom  profited 
substantially,  as  he  owned  and  chartered  many  ships. 
He  was,  like  your  other  forebears,  of  good  old  English 
stock,  being  descended  from  John  Folsom,  who  came 
from  Hingham,  England,  to  settle  Hingham,  Massa- 
chusetts, in  1658.  He  married  Elizabeth  Windship. 
Her  father,  your  great-great-grandfather,  Amos  Wind- 
ship  (1745-1811)  was  educated  at  Harvard,  graduat- 
ing in  1 77 1.  He  was  a  physician,  practising  in  Boston; 
but  when  the  Revolutionary  War  broke  out,  he  be- 
came surgeon  on  the  United  States  frigate  Alliance  of 
the  squadron  of  Paul  Jones  and  remained  in  the  serv- 
ice until  the  end  of  the  war,  in  1783.  Then  he  went  to 
England  and  became  a  member  of  the  London  Medi- 
cal Society  and  was  appointed  a  corresponding  Fel- 
low, after  which  he  resumed  his  practice  in  Boston. 
This  indicates  that  the  charitable  mantle  of  medicine 
was  relatively  as  broad  then  as  now. 

The  Folsoms,  like  the  Uptons,  kept  open  house,  but 
on  a  much  larger  scale,  since  they  received  a  far  wider 
circle.  Sea  captains,  merchants,  clergy  and  professional 
men  were  likely  to  be  touching  elbows  at  their  table 
at  any  time.  Your  mother  remembers  from  her  early 
childhood  with  what  a  kindly  spirit  her  grandmother 
Folsom  used  to  care  for  the  numerous  Penobscot 

(  17  ) 


Indians,  who  came  often  in  these  days  to  Bucksport 
and  frequented  her  kitchen,  in  full  confidence  that 
they  would  be  always  welcome. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  setting  down  your 
ancestry,  because,  in  the  busy  age  in  which  you  live 
and  with  many  miUion  representatives,  recently  ar- 
rived in  America,  of  races  with  which  we  have  at 
first  little  in  common,  you  may  perhaps  otherwise  not 
concern  yourselves  as  to  whence  you  came,  nor  suffi- 
ciently realize  the  importance  and  responsibilities  of 
your  birthright. 

It  is  not  possible  to  have  more  worthy  and  honour- 
able ancestors.  I  trust  that  their  virtues,  courage, 
piety,  unselfishness,  their  unfaltering  faith  in  the 
power  of  knowledge,  wisdom,  patience  and  love  to 
secure  at  last  the  welfare  of  all  mankind,  may  charac- 
terize you  and  your  descendants  to  remotest  genera- 
tions. 

My  earliest  recollections  are  connected  with  life  in 
Falmouth.  Ours  was  an  hospitable  house.  There  was 
a  large  family  relationship  and,  besides  these,  there 
were  frequent  guests. 

My  father  especially  enjoyed  the  society  of  clergy- 
men, and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Hooker,  who  was  then  our 
pastor,  and  who  subsequently  became  Secretary  of 
the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign 
Missions,  in  which  position  he  did  the  world  great 

(    i8   ) 


service,  was  frequently  with  us.  He  was  a  man  of 
great  dignity,  and  yet  the  spirit  of  kindliness  was  so 
evident  in  his  features  and  speech,  that  I  was  never 
overawed  in  his  presence,  as  were  often  many  older 
and  wiser  persons.  I  loved  to  imitate  his  pulpit  ges- 
tures and  speech,  but  I  recollect  how  my  conscience 
reproached  me  when  I  once  told  to  him  my  first  de- 
liberate untruth.  He  often  encouraged  me  to  prattle 
with  him  and,  upon  this  occasion,  longing  to  gain  his 
admiration,  I  told  him  that  I  had  jumped  upon  a  cer- 
tain white  cow's  back  and  ridden  her  from  the  pasture 
to  the  stable.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  I  made  ac- 
quaintance with  sin;  for  having,  even  at  this  tender 
age,  heard  much  of  the  awful  wickedness  of  breaking 
the  moral  law,  after  the  Puritan  tone  of  that  time,  I 
suffered  tortures  of  remorse  and  feared  that  mine  was 
surely  a  lost  soul. 

But  I  must  have  easily  recovered,  for  later,  when  a 
special  dinner  was  to  be  given,  from  which,  to  my 
chagrin,  I  was  to  be  excluded,  I  revenged  myself  by 
purloining  the  soup  spoons  and  plunging  them  down 
the  well.  My  dear  mother,  who  had  had  sad  experi- 
ence of  my  infant  depravity,  suspected  my  agency  as 
soon  as  she  heard  that  the  spoons  were  missing  and  at 
once  asked  me  where  I  thought  they  were.  I  told  her  I 
had  seen  the  Reverend  Dr.  Hooker  take  them  and 
throw  them  down  the  well,  and  volunteered  to  show 

(  19 ) 


her  just  how  he  did  it.  I  think  Peter  Schomaker,  the 
negro  boy  whom  my  grandfather  had  brought  from 
Mexico,  fished  them  out,  and  thus  one  part  of  my 
story  was  shown  to  be  true.  I  could  not  decide,  how- 
ever, whether  my  escape  from  punishment  was  due  to 
the  convincing  nature  of  that  fact,  or  to  some  internal 
force  from  which  my  mother  was  suffering,  but  I 
know  that  her  sweet  face  expressed  a  variety  of  emo- 
tions, none  of  which  seemed  tragic.  I  remember  sur- 
reptitiously hearing  her  relate,  with  much  enjoyment 
— for  children  then  as  now  often  heard  much  which 
was  not  intended  for  them — how  Newell  Sill  would 
don  part  of  his  father's  raiment  and  come  stalking  into 
the  room  where  she  might  be  engaged  in  household 
cares  and  say,  in  his  father's  voice,  "Come  Phebe, 
let's  have  family  prayers,"  and  also  many  other  pranks 
with  which  I  seem  to  have  shocked  and  cheered  the 
household. 

Fortunately  a  spirit  of  humour,  as  well  as  of  affec- 
tion, pervaded  the  family,  since  otherwise  the  condi- 
tions of  life  would  have  been  too  serious.  Thoughts, 
words  and  deeds  were  judged  from  the  standpoint  of 
ecclesiasticism.  It  is  not  surprising  that  the  Puritans, 
having  endured  such  trials  for  their  faith,  having  left 
houses  and  lands  and  friends  and  all  they  knew  of  an 
old  and  precious  civilization  to  find  a  home  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  having  made  that  home  secure  from  foes 

(  20 ) 


without  and  full  of  promise  of  an  unlimited  growth 
within,  should  come  to  be  greatly  influenced  by  the 
harsh  as  well  as  by  the  gentle  aspects  of  their  religion. 
For  among  them  religion  was  the  chief  concern  of 
life.  The  pious  people  of  my  childhood  believed  in  a 
just  God,  who  punished  iniquity,  transgression  and 
sin  in  this  world  and  in  the  next.  The  Bible  provided 
the  only  infallible  rule  of  faith  and  conduct,  and  each 
sect  believed  that  it  alone  possessed  the  true  interpre- 
tation, especially  in  minor  matters.  The  whole  com- 
munity engaged  in  discussion  of  theological  questions, 
and  obscure  points  were  often  argued,  even  by  scan- 
tily educated  people,  withmuch  fervour  and  ingenuity. 
The  great  business  of  life  was,  first  to  save  one's  own 
soul  through  repentance  towards  an  offended  God  and 
through  faith  in  the  sacrifice  for  sin  made  by  his  divine 
Son,  and  then  to  save  the  souls  of  others.  The  Old  Tes- 
tament had  a  great  influence  upon  the  Puritans,  who 
drew  a  parallel  between  their  history  and  that  of  the 
Jews.  In  my  childhood  the  spirit  of  the  Jewish  Sab- 
bath rather  than  of  the  Christian  Sunday  prevailed, 
all  amusements  and,  so  far  as  possible,  all  domestic 
occupations  being  discontinued.  I  can  remember  how 
I  inwardly  resented  a  reproof  for  picking  a  few  flowers 
on  Sunday  and  of  being  obliged  to  attend  Sunday 
morning  service  when  almost  an  infant  and  to  keep 
quiet  during  an  hour-long  sermon. 

(     21     ) 


In  those  early  years  I  cultivated  a  habit  of  inatten- 
tion and  of  wandering  thought,  the  pernicious  conse- 
quences of  which  have  followed  me  all  my  life  long. 
I  was  an  imaginative  child  and  it  was  after  a  time  easy 
for  me  to  indulge  in  day  dreams  during  the  whole  of 
a  long  service;  but  I  was  often  reproved  and  I  fear  as 
often  regarded  as  a  child  of  sin,  because  I  could  so 
seldom  remember  the  text  or  anything  of  the  service, 
except  occasionally  some  peculiarity  of  the  minister  or 
an  incident  like  the  entry  upon  a  summer  day,  when 
the  church  doors  were  left  open,  of  a  dog  looking  for 
his  master;  or  experiencing  a  wild  delight  because  of 
seeing  some  equally  undevout  boy  adroitly  concealing 
a  small  pet  in  his  pocket.  I  believe  flying  squirrels, 
which  sleep  during  the  day,  were  favourites  for  such 
purposes. 

It  was  by  no  means  a  rehgion  altogether  of  gloom. 
But  those  who  preached  of  righteousness  and  judge- 
ment to  come  felt  deeply  their  responsibility  to  God 
and  man,  and  really  believed,  as  ecclesiastics  have 
professed  to  believe  under  all  creeds  and  in  all  ages, 
that  their  offices  were  of  supreme  importance  and 
should  take  precedence  of  all  else.  Added  to  this  con- 
viction, was  the  honoured  social  position  held  by  the 
New  England  clergy.  They  were  usually  the  best  edu- 
cated people  in  the  community,  where  learning  was 
esteemed  and  piety  reverenced,  and  they  were  natural 

(    22    ) 


leaders  in  every  good  word  and  work.  But,  because  of 
their  office  and  position,  they  were  invested  with  a 
dignity  and  importance  which  set  them  apart  and 
kept  them  from  a  near  intimacy  with  common  affairs, 
which  did  not  diminish,  but  rather  increased,  their  in- 
fluence. 

It  was  dehghtful  to  see  such  men  unbend  and  show 
their  lovable  human  qualities,  as  they  did  in  my 
father's  genial  society.  Nothing  could  resist  his  cheer- 
fulness and  good  temper  and,  although  he  was  himself 
deeply  religious,  he  had  a  breadth  of  mind  and  a  range 
of  spiritual  and  intellectual  sympathies,  together  with 
a  hvely  sense  of  humour,  which  made  his  companion- 
ship very  attractive. 

There  were  three  brothers  in  the  family,  John, 
Charles  and  James.  My  grandfather,  Weston  Jenkins, 
died  when  John,  the  eldest,  had  not  completed  his  edu- 
cation, and  thus  he  became  at  an  early  age  the  head  of 
the  family  in  his  father's  place.  An  intimate  affection 
and  a  beautiful  spirit  of  mutual  helpfulness  prevailed 
among  all  the  eight  children,  and  especially  the  three 
brothers  stood  by  each  other  and  cared  for  their  sis- 
ters in  all  the  ways  of  life  with  a  devotion  and  cheerful 
self-sacrifice  such  as  I  have  never  seen  equalled.  The 
brothers  became  excellent  men  of  business,  as  distin- 
guished for  their  high  sense  of  honour  as  for  their 
ability.  John  was  president  of  the  Falmouth  bank  and 

(  23  ) 


his  knowledge  of  finance  was  very  useful  to  his  broth- 
ers, who  also  profited  by  obtaining  loans  from  the 
bank  and  distributing  its  notes  where  they  carried  on 
business.  In  those  days  there  were  no  national  banks, 
and  private  banks  found  it  to  their  advantage  to  have 
their  notes  widely  distributed,  since  they  then  came 
back  less  rapidly  for  redemption.  I  believe  it  was  the 
custom  to  make  payments  in  Falmouth  in  notes  of  a 
Bangor  bank  for  distribution  in  Massachusetts  and  to 
receive  loans  from  the  Falmouth  bank  in  notes  to  be 
distributed  in  Maine. 

I  remember  something  of  the  inconvenience  of  im- 
perfect postal  service  before  the  advent  of  the  postage 
stamp  and  of  the  system  of  registering  letters  and 
packages  of  value.  Letters  to  and  from  Falmouth  were 
irregular  in  delivery  and,  when  they  contained  money 
in  bank  notes,  as  was  often  the  case  when  Uncle  James 
and  my  father  were  in  business  in  Bangor,  there  was 
much  anxiety  until  a  letter  returned  telling  of  their 
arrival. 

One  day  father  gave  me  a  package  of  letters  to  take 
to  the  post-office,  not  telling  me  that  one  of  them  con- 
tained a  considerable  amount  of  money  in  bank  notes. 
I  thought  that  I  had  mailed  all  the  letters,  but  some 
time  afterward,  when  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  cir- 
cumstance, my  father  called  me  into  his  office  and 
asked  me  to  relate  exactly  what  I  did  with  those 

(  24  ) 


letters.  I  assured  him  that  I  had  carefully  mailed  them 
all;  and  then  he  told  me  that  one  of  them  which  con- 
tained money  had  never  reached  its  destination  and 
it  was  to  be  supposed  that  I  had  lost  it  on  the  way  to 
the  post.  There  was  no  well-organized  police  in  those 
days  at  Bangor,  although  it  was  greatly  needed,  for 
the  town  was  rather  a  wild  place,  but  a  kind  of  order 
was  kept  by  a  few  constables,  of  whom  a  shrewd  char- 
acter named  Simon  Walker  was  chief.  He  was  called 
in  and  at  once  said  if  the  money  had  been  lost  in  the 
streets,  he  could  quickly  find  it;  and  sure  enough,  in  a 
few  days  he  brought  it  nearly  all  back  with  the  letter. 
He  called  it  a  very  simple  case.  He  knew  the  whole 
community  and  only  needed  to  inquire  who  among 
the  poor  people  had  been  spending  money  freely  at 
this  time.  The  labouring  Irish  all  were  herded  together 
in  one  part  of  the  town  and  he  quickly  found  that  a 
poor  Irish  woman  had  been  very  free  with  sums  of 
money  too  large  for  a  person  in  her  condition.  So  at 
once  he  taxed  her  with  having  the  letter  and  she  ad- 
mitted that  her  little  boy  had  found  it  and  given  it 
to  her.  She  kept  it  for  a  while,  not  daring  to  use  it  im- 
mediately, but  at  last,  since  the  loss  was  not  adver- 
tised, she  began  to  spend  it  and  hadn't  got  very  far 
with  it  when  the  dreaded  constable  "fixed  her  with 
his  glittering  eye."  He  advised  my  father  not  to  prose- 
cute the  poor  ignorant  woman,  to  whom  the  tempta- 

(  25  ) 


tion  had  been  very  great  and  who  would  not  again  be 
likely  to  go  wrong  after  such  a  fright  as  he  had  given 
her,  nor  to  demand  back  the  money  she  had  spent  and 
could  not  possibly  repay,  and  my  father  gladly  con- 
sented. In  those  primitive  days  constables  and  private 
citizens  had  more  liberty  of  action  than  is  now  the 
case  and  no  one  then  would  have  thought  of  calling 
such  an  affair  by  so  dread  a  name  as  "compounding  a 
felony"  or  of  regarding  the  actors  as  debauching 
society. 


1 845         Chapter  Two         1854 

WHEN  I  was  five  years  of  age,  my  father,  taking 
his  family,  went  to  Bangor,  to  go  into  business 
with  his  brother  James.  I  can  remember  the  parting, 
when  all  the  members  of  the  family  had  assembled  at 
the  old  homestead  to  say  farewell.  The  Reverend  Dr. 
Hooker  solemnly  prayed  for  the  welfare  of  the  be- 
loved friends  going  into  what  was  then  a  far  country, 
and  we  took  our  journey,  which  then  required  some 
days  by  land  and  sea,  to  our  destination.  I  recollect 
my  first  glimpse  of  the  Penobscot  River  from  the  top 
of  a  stagecoach.  Its  clear  waters,  seen  from  a  rift  in 
the  hills,  reflected  the  brilliant  sunshine  of  an  early 
summer  day  and,  for  the  first  time,  I  was  aware  that 
the  world  was  beautiful.  From  that  moment  on,  all 
through  my  long  life,  light,  form,  and  above  all  colour 
in  natural  scenery  have  been  to  me  a  deep  delight. 

We  arrived  in  Bangor  to  find  a  temporary  home  in 
the  family  of  Uncle  James,  who  was  living  in  a  hand- 
some mansion  which  contained  room  enough  for  us 
all.  We  were  five;  my  father  and  mother,  my  two  elder 
sisters,  Emily  Hart  and  Eliza  Bishop,  and  myself;  and 
as  there  were  in  Uncle  James's  family  three  children 
corresponding  to  our  ages,  we  were  all  very  merry  and 
happy  together.  Uncle  James  was  in  the  full  tide  of 

(  27  ) 


well-deserved  prosperity  in  the  lumber  business,  into 
whose  mysteries  my  father  was  to  be  initiated.  He  at 
once  bought  a  large  lot  of  land  opposite  to  Uncle 
James's  home  and  built  upon  it  a  modest  but  com- 
fortable and  beautifully  situated  house.  It  excited 
comment  that  my  father  insisted  upon  having  a  bath- 
room in  his  house,  for  Bangor  was  at  that  time  a  sort 
of  frontier  town  and  had  little  sympathy  with  per- 
sonal luxury.  As  the  art  of  plumbing  was  little  under- 
stood and  really  hot  water  rarely  obtainable,  I,  being 
very  susceptible  to  cold,  scarcely  regarded  its  use  as 
a  mere  luxury. 

Uncle  James  was  a  true  hero.  He  had  led  a  very 
adventurous  life,  in  which  he  displayed  great  courage 
and  resource,  and  was  of  so  high  a  spirit  that  no  dis- 
aster, of  which  many  occurred,  could  long  depress 
him.  At  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  entreated  his  father 
to  let  him  go  to  sea.  His  father,  Weston  Jenkins,  who 
was  a  man  of  great  energy  and  strong  character  and 
had  been  himself  a  sea  captain  for  many  years,  at  last 
promised  to  permit  him  to  go  if  after  two  years  of 
study  he  should  have  prepared  himself  properly.  Ac- 
cordingly the  boy  worked  hard  at  his  studies  and 
when  he  could  claim  his  father's  fulfilment  of  his 
promise,  he  refused  to  go  in  any  ship  in  which  the 
family  was  interested,  but  went  to  New  York  to  ship 
for  himself  and  make  his  own  way  in  the  world.  At 

(    28    ) 


twenty  years  of  age,  as  was  the  case  with  his  father 
before  him,  he  became  the  captain  of  a  ship,  and,  also 
like  his  father,  kept  himself  pure  and  brave,  honour- 
able and  generous  to  the  end  of  his  varied  and  useful 
career. 

Leonard  will  perhaps  remember  a  voyage  to  Amer- 
ica we  made  with  him  in  1 873,  when  Leonard  was  five 
years  old.  Uncle  James,  hearing  I  was  going  home  for 
a  visit,  wrote  me  from  Italy,  where  he  was  spending 
the  winter,  asking  me  to  arrange  to  sail  on  a  ship  of 
the  White  Star  Line  sailing  in  May  from  Liverpool, 
upon  which  he  had  taken  passage.  Of  course  I  was 
delighted  to  change  my  plans  for  the  pleasure  of 
crossing  with  him,  and  we  all  met  in  Liverpool.  Nora, 
being  a  baby,  was  carried  by  her  nurse  in  a  basket,  but 
Leonard,  who  had  his  first  pair  of  high  boots,  consid- 
ered himself  already  a  man  and,  so  soon  as  he  was  fit, 
used  to  walk  the  deck  between  Uncle  James  and  me 
with  a  mimic  swing  to  his  step  which  showed  him  to 
be  a  chip  of  the  old  block. 

Uncle  James,  like  many  men  who  have  succeeded 
in  accomplishing  results  through  the  exercise  of  high 
qualities,  had  great  faith  in  his  good  luck.  In  writing 
to  me  to  delay  my  sailing  so  we  could  go  with  him,  he 
said  if  we  sailed  with  him  we  should  have  the  finest 
weather  we  ever  saw  at  sea.  It  was  indeed  a  remark- 
ably fine  spring  voyage,  and  every  morning  as  we  met 

(  29  ) 


upon  the  sunny  deck,  he  would  say:  "Didn't  I  tell  you 
so,  boy,  didn't  I  tell  you  so  !" 

The  agent  of  the  White  Star  Line  was  very  defer- 
ential to  my  uncle  and  took  great  pains  to  explain  the 
principles  of  the  construction  of  the  new  ship,  which 
was  then  the  largest  and  most  speedy  of  its  class;  but 
he  seemed  to  think  the  limit  of  profitable  size  had 
been  reached.  Uncle  asked  him  one  day,  how  long  the 
voyage  would  be.  He  answered:  "If  the  captain  does 
not  reach  New  York  on  such  a  day,  he  had  better 
never  show  his  face  in  this  office  again!"  at  which 
my  uncle  showed  me  by  a  glance  what  reckless  talk 
he  thought  that  to  be.  It  made  so  unpleasant  an  im- 
pression upon  me  that  I  never  thought  of  sailing  on 
that  line  again;  and  when  the  awful  tragedy  of  the 
'Titanic  occurred,  the  memory  of  that  morning's 
conversation  came  vividly  back  to  me  after  all  the 
intervening  years. 

The  recollection  of  those  early  years  in  Bangor  is 
pleasant.  Both  my  own  dear  mother  and  the  wife  of 
Uncle  James  were  named  Phebe — our  ancestors  used 
the  orthography  of  the  Bible  and  omitted  the  classical 
diphthong  in  writing  this  name — and  so,  among  the 
elder  members  of  the  family  they  were  called  Phebe- 
Charles  and  Phebe-James.  A  sister  of  Aunt  Phebe  was 
the  wife  of  Mr.  Sydney  Howard  and  they  lived  in  the 
next  house  to  Uncle  James. 

( 30 ) 


In  those  days  journeying  was  adventurous  business, 
and  therefore  when  visitors  came  they  made  long  and 
far  more  intimate  visits  than  in  our  days,  which  are  so 
full  of  variety  in  both  duties  and  pleasures.  In  one  of 
the  three  houses  almost  always,  and  sometimes  in  all 
of  them  at  once,  would  be  visitors,  who  often  stayed 
for  weeks  or  even  months,  and  as  I  remember  it,  their 
society  never  became  stale. 

People  were  thoughtful  in  those  days.  They  laid 
little  stress  upon  accomplishments  in  educational 
plans,  but  were  very  solicitous  to  have  children  well 
grounded  in  serious  studies.  I  was  at  once  sent  to  a 
public  primary  school,  which  I  thought  great  fun,  for 
there  I  met  a  lot  of  boys  with  whom  elsewhere  I  was 
not  allowed  to  associate.  The  principal  instructor  was 
a  majestic  woman,  Mrs.  Thayer,  who  seemed  to  me  a 
sort  of  goddess,  having  an  air  of  command  and  speak- 
ing the  sort  of  language  to  which  I  was  accustomed 
but  which  was  almost  an  unknown  tongue  to  many  of 
the  school  children.  I  had  been  taught  my  letters  only 
a  short  time  before  at  home,  and  when,  one  morning, 
I  was  given  a  book  and  told  to  put  the  letters  into 
words  and  for  the  first  time  read  a  sentence  by  myself, 
I  remember  the  thrill  of  delight  which  ran  through  all 
my  being. The  words  were:  "The  sun  is  up."  The  sun 
was  indeed  up  for  me,  for  in  an  instant  I  was  ushered 
into  a  new  and  wonderful  world,  full  of  light  and 

( 31  ) 


beauty  and  music.  I  went  home  in  an  exalted  condi- 
tion, as  if  walking  on  air,  but  I  could  tell  no  one  what 
I  felt  or  of  what  I  was  dreaming.  Indeed  even  now,  in 
my  old  age,  I  can  scarcely  confess  what  books,  espe- 
cially imaginative  hterature,  have  meant  to  me;  it 
seems  almost  like  violating  a  confidence. 

I  grew  up  with  two  separate  natures,  one  that  of  the 
natural,  ingenuous  child,  fond  of  companionship  and 
sport,  with  a  lively  tendency  to  mischief,  and  the 
other  solemn,  secret,  mystic,  leading  me  to  forget  all 
other  duties  and  enjoyments  in  the  society  of  my  be- 
loved books.  Some  of  them  I  hid,  for  the  rare  dehght 
of  reading  them  by  stealth.  Fortunately,  the  htera- 
ture of  that  time  was  good.  It  was  chiefly  English, 
American  literature  being  scarcely  born.  The  first 
novel  I  read  was:  *'The  Scottish  Chiefs."  I  was  too 
young  to  understand  it  very  well,  but  the  sonorous 
language  sounded  to  me  like  the  surge  of  the  ocean.  I 
remember  how,  for  a  long  time,  I  went  about  the 
house  quoting  to  myself,  "And  the  ponderous  battle- 
axe,  falling  with  the  weight  of  fate,  cleft  the  uplifted 
target  in  twain."  I  read,  as  time  went  on,  everything 
in  my  father's  library,  except  the  theological  and  re- 
ligious books,  for  which  I  had  a  deep  distaste,  aside 
from  "Pilgrim's  Progress"  and  other  allegorical  works, 
but  I  seldom  dared  to  speak  of  the  effect  these  books 
had  upon  me.  There  was  a  sympathetic  woman  who 

(  31   ) 


used  to  come  to  sew  for  my  mother  at  stated  times  and 
to  her  I  used  privately  to  repeat  passages  from  some 
of  the  tragedies  I  read  and,  whatever  impression  it 
may  have  made  upon  her,  it  afforded  me  great  de- 
hght,  for  I  thought  she  appreciated  their  beauty.  But 
one  evening  my  father  asked  me  to  declaim  something 
to  Uncle  James  and,  instead  of  choosing  any  of  the 
ordinary  pieces,  I  began  to  repeat  some  absurd  verses 
from  Willis  which  I  had  just  read.  They  began :  "They 
may  talk  of  love  in  a  cottage,  and  bowers  of  trellised 
vine,"  etc.  One  of  my  sisters,  seeing  how  ridiculous  it 
was  for  such  a  mite  of  a  child  to  be  soberly  repeating 
these  silly  verses,  laughed;  upon  which  I  rushed  from 
the  room  in  a  passion  of  weeping  that  any  bit  of  my 
beloved  poetry  should  excite  ridicule,  and  determined 
never,  never  again  to  let  any  one  know  how  precious 
my  private  reading  was  to  me.  Dear,  kindly  Uncle 
James  followed  me  after  a  time  and  took  me  in  his 
arms  and  comforted  me,  telling  me  how  he  often  as  a 
boy  declaimed  to  his  father  and  how  it  distressed  him 
if  any  one  failed  to  appreciate  his  eloquence,  until  I 
became  normal  again  and  came  out  of  my  world  of 
dreams. 

Uncle  James,  like  my  dear  father,  was  very  fond  of 
children,  and  they  all  understood  and  loved  him.  How 
often  have  I  sat  on  his  knee  or  lain  on  the  carpet  at 
his  feet,  listening  to  his  unfailing  store  of  tales  of  his 

(  33   ) 


adventures  and  wondering  if  there  had  ever  been  an- 
other man  so  brave  and  fortunate.  Good  fortune  he 
had  indeed  a  way  of  compelling  and,  when  bad  luck 
came,  he  laughed  at  the  jade  and  began  to  conquer  her 
afresh.  I  remember  witnessing,  when  I  must  have  been 
about  eight  years  old,  the  dramatic  loss  of  one  of  his 
fortunes,  of  which  he  made  three  in  his  lifetime. 

He  had  a  great  quantity  of  lumber  and  logs  on  the 
Penobscot  River,  the  product  of  his  extensive  timber 
lands,  when  a  fearful  jam  of  ice  occurred  in  the  spring 
at  the  narrows  below  Bangor.  The  water  was  held 
back  by  this  obstruction  and  the  ice  was  packed  in 
enormous  blocks  between  Bangor  and  Brewer,  espe- 
cially about  the  great  covered  bridge.  One  evening  we 
were  all  looking  from  the  windows  of  my  father's 
house  upon  this  wild  scene,  when  suddenly  the  jam 
below  broke  and  the  bridge,  lifted  bodily  from  its 
piers,  seemed  to  hover  for  an  instant  unsupported  in 
the  air  and  then  fell  with  a  great  crash  into  the  rush- 
ing waters  and  the  crushing  ice  below.  In  that  wild 
outpouring  of  the  pent-up  waters  and  ice,  every  stick 
of  timber  in  the  booms  was  carried  away.  My  Uncle 
James  saw  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  of 
his  property,  a  large  sum  for  that  time,  irredeemably 
swept  away  towards  the  sea.  The  next  morning  we 
visited  the  scene  of  the  disaster.  There  appeared  to  be 
nothing  left  of  the  bridge,  except  the  sign  "Five  dol- 

(    34    ) 


lars  fine  for  crossing  this  bridge  faster  than  a  walk.** 
But  in  the  boiling  cauldron  below,  in  which  stray  logs 
and  great  masses  of  ice  were  floating,  some  Indians 
were  unconcernedly  paddling  about  in  their  frail  birch 
bark  canoes,  some  of  them  having  their  squaws  and 
children  with  them,  on  the  lookout  for  such  flotsam 
and  jetsam  as  it  might  be  their  lot  to  catch. 

Some  idea  of  the  thickness  which  the  ice  might 
sometimes  obtain  in  that  climate  where  occasionally 
the  mercury  froze  in  the  thermometer,  I  gained  by 
observation  one  spring  day  when,  as  an  especial 
favour,  I  was  allowed  to  go  with  dear  old  Tim  Loony, 
ex-sailor,  promoted  to  be  coachman  and  man  of  all 
work,  to  fish  for  smelts.  We  came  where  a  good-sized 
man  was  cutting  a  hole  through  the  ice  for  his  lines, 
and  we  could  scarcely  see  more  than  his  head  until  we 
came  to  the  brink  of  the  hole,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
he  was  lustily  chopping  with  his  axe. 

Tim  Loony  was  one  of  our  heroes.  My  cousin  How- 
ard and  I  loved  him  dearly.  His  tattooed  arms  were 
beautiful  to  us.  His  Irish  brogue  was  sweeter  to  our 
ears  than  music.  His  loyalty  to  the  family  was  a  ro- 
mance. Our  fathers  had  nothing  so  splendid,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  a  Mexican  punch  bowl,  as  his 
silk  handkerchief  wrought  with  the  flags  of  all  nations, 
and  no  one  else  had  such  extensive  knowledge  of 
horses  or  such  fellowship  with  all  domestic  animals  as 

(  35   ) 


he.  The  choicest  horse  in  the  stable  was  Ploughboy, 
a  vicious  beauty,  whose  high  spirits  only  an  Irishman 
could  understand,  but  whom  my  uncle  preferred  to 
drive  himself.  When,  in  a  great  emergency,  it  was 
necessary  to  press  through  to  a  distant  winter  camp, 
it  was  Ploughboy  who  drew  the  light  sleigh  over  long 
stretches  of  river  ice  and  occasional  half-blocked 
roads,  a  hundred  miles  in  a  single  day,  and  who  came 
in  with  the  same  high  crest  and  fine  disdain  of  dis- 
tance and  fatigue  in  the  evening  that  he  had  shown 
when  starting  in  the  morning. 

Those  were  fine  slashing  days  for  boys  like  Howard 
and  myself,  when  Bangor  was  a  prosperous  frontier 
town.  There  were  delightful,  fearsome  rumours  of  gen- 
tlemen gambling  for  high  stakes  the  night  through, 
natural  enough  for  a  time  and  place  where  business 
itself,  even  when  carried  on  by  such  men  as  our  fathers, 
was  very  much  of  a  gamble  on  account  of  forest  fires, 
dry  seasons  when  logs  could  not  be  brought  to  market, 
or  freshets  which  carried  them  where  they  should  not 
go,  and  other  unforeseen  caprices  of  nature,  as  well  as 
fantastic  conditions  of  credit  and  currency. 

There  were  great  days  in  the  early  winter,  when  the 
lumbermen  were  sent  off  to  the  camps,  where  they 
were  to  remain,  felling  timber,  until  they  could  bring 
the  logs  down  with  the  spring  high  water  to  the 
shrieking  mills,  where  they  were  relentlessly  sawn 

( 36 ) 


asunder  and  lengthwise  into  all  shapes  and  sizes  with 
what,  as  I  now  look  back  upon  it,  was  prodigious 
wastefulness  of  material,  such  as  would,  in  these  later 
days,  ruin  any  business  enterprise. 

Uncle  James  at  one  time  bought  some  twenty  thou- 
sand acres  of  forest  land  in  which  a  curious  character, 
Colonel  John  Goddard,  had  an  interest.  Goddard  was 
an  excellent  woodsman  and  my  uncle  put  him  in 
charge  of  the  practical  lumbering,  but  his  habits  made 
a  continued  connection  with  him  impossible.  He  was 
fearfully  profane  of  speech  and  seemed  to  have  no 
respect  for  God  or  man,  but  his  very  vices  apparently 
endeared  him  to  the  rough  men  whom  he  employed. 
He  used  to  delight  in  starting  off  with  his  men  and 
horses  and  oxen  for  the  winter  camp  on  a  Sunday 
morning  just  at  church  time,  and  when  once  remon- 
strated with  upon  such  an  occasion  for  thus  shocking 
the  sentiments  of  the  community,  he  replied:" You 
see,  Mr.  Jenkins  is  a  very  pious  man  and  he  attends 
to  the  religion  of  the  firm;  I  have  to  look  after  the 
lumbermen." 

The  lumbermen  were  indeed  often  a  rough  lot  and, 
when  they  were  paid  off  in  the  spring,  they  spent  their 
money  with  great  freedom  and  not  always  blame- 
lessly. Many  a  free  fight  we  saw  down  on  my  father's 
wharf,  where  conditions  were  favourable  for  a  friendly 
encounter.  How  we  loved  to  steal  down  to  that  wharf 

(  37   ) 


and  watch  for  adventures!  Ships  came  to  it  to  be 
laden  with  lumber  and  all  sorts  of  queer  characters 
abounded.  One  day  during  a  terrific  epidemic  of  chol- 
era, my  father  found  one  of  his  Indians  sitting  on  a 
cask  and  eagerly  devouring  an  enormous  lobster.  Such 
an  indulgence  was  regarded  then  as  equivalent  to  a 
death  warrant,  and  my  father  forcibly  remonstrated 
with  the  Indian;  but  he  would  only  pause  long  enough 
to  grunt  and  say:  "Me  loves  lobster,"  and  go  on  with 
his  repast. 

Yes,  those  were  great  days  for  boys  who  knew  that 
there  were  real  bears  and  wolves  in  the  forest  and  real 
professional  gamblers  and  highway  robbers  in  the 
town  and  Indians  everywhere. 

Bangor  retained  its  reputation  for  "toughness" 
during  all  the  years  I  knew  it.  When  I  was  a  young 
man,  there  was  much  excitement  at  one  time  about  a 
set  of  robbers  who,  singly  or  in  couples,  practised  the 
gentle  art  of  coming  softly  from  behind  upon  the  un- 
wary wayfarer  and  tapping  him  on  the  neck  or  back  of 
the  head  with  a  billy  so  adroitly  that  he  would  be 
either  stunned  or  killed.  As  I  was  often  out  of  an  even- 
ing in  those  days,  for  I  was  paying  my  addresses  to 
your  mother,  I  took  to  carrying  a  revolver  in  my 
overcoat  pocket.  But  I  quite  determined,  being  a  good 
shot  and  having  a  great  horror  of  killing  even  a  foot- 
pad, that  I  would  shoot  a  man  who  might  attack  me 

( 38  ) 


in  the  shoulder  and  so  simply  disable  him.  I  thought 
it  out  quite  exactly,  so  I  might  be  prepared  to  act  in 
such  an  event  without  hesitation.  One  memorable 
evening,  however,  I  was  returning  to  my  hotel  later 
than  usual.  I  was  going  the  next  morning  to  Portland 
to  visit  my  dear  mother  and  sister  for  the  first  time 
since  my  happy  betrothal,  and,  as  I  came  to  the  corner 
of  the  street  leading  to  the  "Penobscot  Exchange,"  as 
the  hotel  kept  by  Abraham  Woodard,  a  rarely  good 
and  honourable  man  and  a  noted  character  in  Bangor, 
was  called,  I  saw  that  a  barber's  shop  up  a  long  flight 
of  steps  was  still  open.  Up  I  ran  to  get  shaved,  since  I 
was  to  start  early  the  next  morning.  Upon  coming  out 
to  descend  the  long  and  well-lighted  staircase,  I  saw 
a  tall  young  fellow  slip  in  from  the  street  and  hide  in 
the  shadow  of  the  doorway.  At  first  I  thought  he  mis- 
took me  for  a  comrade  and  that  he  meant  to  chaff  me 
in  passing,  but,  on  approaching  him,  I  perceived  he 
had  a  billy  in  his  upraised  right  hand.  I  took  out  my 
revolver,  from  the  polished  barrel  of  which  I  noticed 
a  gleam  of  light  was  reflected,  upon  which  he  drew 
closer  back  into  his  corner.  In  passing,  I  kept  my  eye 
upon  him,  thinking  if  he  moved  I  could  shoot  him 
before  he  could  hit  me;  but,  in  coming  onto  the  icy 
street  I  slipped.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  he  was 
after  me  but,  recovering  myself  as  quickly,  I  turned 
upon  him  and  he  stood  motionless  as  a  statue.  Then  I 

(   39   ) 


went  slowly  on  my  way,  he  following  at  something 
beyond  jumping  distance,  when  at  last  two  policemen 
were  seen  coming  toward  us,  upon  which  he  turned 
and  ran  rapidly  away.  As  we  had  no  confidence  in  the 
political  Irish  police  of  that  time,  men  generally  being 
prepared  and  expected  to  defend  themselves,  I  passed 
them  without  telling  them  of  my  adventure;  but, 
shortly  after  reaching  my  room,  I  suddenly  thought  of 
the  futility  of  my  good  resolution,  which  I  had  quite 
forgotten  in  the  time  of  danger.  For  all  I  could  re- 
member was  a  pleasing  elation  at  the  certainty  of 
being  able  to  kill  him  before  he  could  touch  me.  Ever 
since,  however,  I  have  somewhat  distrusted  my  good 
resolutions. 

Aunt  Phebe  died  in  1848,  and  the  next  year  Uncle 
James  sold  out  his  interests  in  Bangor  and  went  to 
carry  on  a  new  enterprise,  which  obliged  him  to  live 
in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  and  from  that  time  on  I  only 
saw  him  fitfully,  but  all  his  life  long  I  felt  the  influence 
of  his  life  and  character  and  loved  and  admired  him 
greatly. 

My  father  wound  up  the  odds  and  ends  of  Uncle 
James's  business,  and  it  was  no  sinecure.  Child  as  I 
was,  I  felt  the  inspiration  of  the  unselfishness  with 
which  the  two  brothers,  my  father  and  Uncle  John, 
combined  to  help  him  out  of  his  business  perplexities, 
and  I  took  to  heart  the  lesson,  as  you  children  can  tes- 

( 40 ) 


tify  when  you  recall  my  frequent  admonition  to  you 
to  stand  by  each  other  in  all  times  of  adversity  and 
trouble.  There  was  never  a  relationship  more  beauti- 
ful than  that  of  those  three  brothers,  who  frequently 
had  occasion  to  aid  each  other  with  advice  and  for- 
tune in  the  various  hazards  of  business  in  their  time, 
when  all  forms  of  business  were  subjected  to  great 
vicissitudes. 

My  father  remained  in  Bangor.  He  had  taken  into 
business  with  him  Mr.  William  Wentworth  Brown,  a 
young  man  of  high  character  and  rare  business  abil- 
ity, and  they  worked  perfectly  together.  My  father 
was  the  financier  and  his  partner  managed  the  out-of- 
door  business,  both  of  which  branches  required  es- 
pecial fitness.  My  father's  greater  years  and  wider  ex- 
perience enabled  him  to  manage  his  department  in 
ways  which  the  younger  man  found  full  of  wisdom, 
and  this  partner  was  himself,  by  reason  of  his  quick 
intelligence,  untiring  industry  and  superb  physical 
fitness,  ideal  for  the  strenuous  work.  The  lumber  busi- 
ness of  that  day  could  not  be  so  highly  organized  as  it 
now  is.  There  were  no  numbers  of  well-trained  men 
who  could  be  employed  for  subordinate  positions  and 
be  kept  working  harmoniously  together.  A  good  man 
of  business  had  to  be  intimately  acquainted  with  all 
the  details  of  his  enterprise  and  always  ready  to  turn 
his  hand  to  any  section  which  needed  attention.  But 

( 41  ) 


this  firm  from  the  beginning  possessed  both  prudence 
and  enterprise  and  for  some  years  steadily  improved 
its  position. 

Those  were  happy  years  for  the  family,  especially 
for  my  father,  who  was  surrounded  by  a  group  of  at- 
tached friends,  among  whom  the  clerical  element  was 
numerous,  as  had  always  been  the  case.  To  me  this 
began  to  be  distressing,  as  the  more  serious  direction 
of  my  education  had  begun  and  I  was  haunted  by  a 
suspicion  that  my  parents  designed  me  for  the  min- 
istry. In  my  father's  hospitable  house  there  were  al- 
ways among  the  visitors  a  number  of  theological  stu- 
dents, many  of  whom  I  cordially  detested.  They 
seemed  to  me  scarcely  human  and  it  was  a  great  solace 
to  escape  from  their  society  to  that  of  some  forbidden 
acquaintance  with  whom  I  could  discuss  the  relative 
advantages  of  the  life  of  a  highwayman  or  a  pirate. 

My  reading  had  become  far  more  diversified  than 
my  parents  imagined.  Books  which  I  thought  might 
be  forbidden,  I  concealed  and  carried  under  my  jacket 
to  school,  reading  them  there  instead  of  studying  my 
lessons,  in  mastering  which  I  had  a  superficial  facihty 
enabling  me  to  pass  muster  when  my  real  thoughts 
were  far  away  and  my  knowledge  of  the  subject  most 
imperfect.  In  the  long  list  of  instructors  under  whom 
I  was  placed,  I  cannot  recall  one  who  gave  himself  any 
trouble  to  find  out  what  was  the  matter  with  me  or  to 

( 42  ) 


convince  me  of  the  value  of  regular  mental  training. 
I  felt  myself  the  object  of  a  conspiracy  to  make  a 
parson  of  a  boy  who  intensely  desired  a  life  of  action, 
and  became  suspicious,  wilful,  irritable,  and  absorbed 
in  a  world  of  the  imagination,  into  which  I  could 
admit  no  one.  I  was  sent  to  various  private  schools,  in 
one  of  which,  kept  by  a  member  of  the  scholarly 
Abbot  family  at  Farmington,  I  might  have  accom- 
plished much  more  had  I  been  a  little  older.  I  was, 
however,  almost  the  youngest  among  some  thirty 
pupils,  and  suffered  incredibly  from  the  brutality  of 
some  of  the  larger  boys.  Among  my  schoolmates  there 
were  a  few  who  had  come  from  families  where  good 
breeding  was  a  tradition,  but,  for  the  greater  part,  the 
boys  were  a  rough  lot,  delighting  in  bullying  those 
who  were  unable  to  defend  themselves.  One  of  the 
tricks  played  upon  me  nearly  cost  me  my  life.  We  had 
all  been  allowed,  one  winter  day,  to  skate  on  the  over- 
flowed meadow  land  of  the  Sandy  River,  but  were 
warned  not  to  go  onto  the  river  itself.  Naturally  we 
disobeyed,  for  there  the  ice  was  far  better;  but  there 
was  one  place  in  the  middle  where  the  swift  current 
had  kept  an  open  space  for  some  distance  and,  when 
I  was  not  looking,  a  bigger  boy  had  somehow  made  a 
mark  with  his  skate  beyond  where  any  one  had  really 
ventured  to  go,  and  not  far  from  the  open  water.  They 
dared  me  to  go  so  far  and,  upon  the  word,  I  skated 

(    43    ) 


well  beyond  the  mark,  when  the  ice  broke  under  me. 
Fortunately  I  was  very  agile  and,  turning  quickly 
caught  with  my  hand  the  firm  edge  of  the  ice  and 
abnost  as  quickly  caught  it  with  the  other  also.  The 
water  was  bitterly  cold  and  I  could  feel  the  swelling 
force  of  the  stream  dragging  me  under,  but  at  last  I 
got  one  arm  after  the  other  on  the  ice  and  managed  to 
crawl  out  unaided.  I  remember  smiling  grimly  at  the 
pale  faces  of  the  boys,  who  were  too  frightened  to  help 
me  and,  as  I  contrived  to  explain  my  drenched  condi- 
tion without  involving  any  of  them,  they  treated  me 
more  considerately  for  a  time. 

It  was  a  rude  age  and  it  was  the  popular  opinion 
that  a  delicate  boy  needed  hard  treatment.  I  had  to 
sleep  in  an  unwarmed  room  at  school  and  was  often 
obliged  to  break  the  ice  to  make  my  morning  toilet. 
It  took  more  than  twenty-four  hours  to  make  the 
journey  from  Bangor  to  Farmington  by  stage  and  in 
winter  weather  the  cold  was  often  very  great.  The 
stage-driver  would  sometimes  throw  out  into  the 
snow  any  boys  who  might  be  among  his  passengers 
and  make  them  run  up  hill  after  the  coach  to  reestab- 
lish their  circulation.  I  remember  coming  home  once 
in  the  spring  and  driving  all  night  in  a  pouring  rain  in 
a  stage  destitute  of  a  top.  The  last  hour  of  the  journey 
I  had  to  make  on  foot,  for  the  stage  had  foundered  in 
the  awful  road,  and,  when  I  reached  the  house,  my 

(    44    ) 


anxious  mother  put  me  quickly  into  a  hot  bath.  To 
her  horror,  I  was  stained  from  my  neck  to  my  feet  by 
the  dye  of  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  which  made  me  as 
blue  as  a  Druid  and  kept  me  of  that  colour  for  some 
time,  much  to  my  delight. 

It  was  owing  largely  to  my  father's  ill  health  that 
I  was  so  much  away  from  home.  When  I  was  only 
about  eight  years  of  age,  I  was  sent  for  the  first  time 
to  the  Goodale  School,  only  a  half-day's  drive  from 
Bangor;  for  the  rest  of  the  family  went  with  my  father 
on  a  journey,  upon  which  I  should  have  been  in  the 
way,  and  after  the  return  of  the  family  I  was  kept 
there  still.  I  suffered  much  from  homesickness,  which 
I  was  ashamed  to  acknowledge,  and  when  I  heard  of 
the  return  of  the  family,  I  wrote  a  letter  to  my  father 
asking  him  to  fetch  me  and  telling  him  how  miserable 
I  was,  adding,  if  not  sent  for  I  should  surely  run  away. 
This  letter  was  left  on  the  table  in  my  room,  where  it 
was  found  by  Mr.  Goodale,  who,  the  next  day  when 
all  the  boys  were  at  their  lessons  in  the  school-room, 
held  up  the  tear-stained  and  shabbily  written  letter 
and  ordered  me  to  read  it  aloud.  Child  as  I  was,  I 
knew  this  to  be  an  outrage  and  at  once  told  him  it  was 
my  letter  and  no  one  but  my  father  had  a  right  to  read 
it  and  defied  him  to  make  me  read  it.  He  threatened 
me  with  a  rod,  but  refrained  from  touching  me  and 
finally  contented  himself  with  sending  me  to  my 

(    45    ) 


room  and  destroying  the  letter.  The  next  day  I  ran 
away  and  finally  reached  my  home,  greatly  exhausted, 
but  triumphant.  My  father  heard  my  story  without 
comment,  but  I  was  relieved  some  days  afterward  to 
find  my  belongings  had  been  sent  back  from  school, 
also  without  comment,  so  far  as  I  know. 

During  all  those  early  years  I  greatly  needed  to 
come  under  the  influence  of  an  enlightened  and  sym- 
pathetic teacher,  but  never  did  this  happen.  Nearly 
all  my  instruction  was  so  badly  done  as  to  give  me  a 
great  distaste  for  study,  but  not  for  reading.  When  I 
was  at  Farmington  and  about  twelve  years  of  age,  I 
was  allowed  for  the  first  time  to  read  Dickens.  It  was 
a  great  event  in  my  life.  Up  to  that  time,  my  reading 
had  been  chiefly  of  EngHsh  books.  I  knew  Scott's 
"Lady  of  the  Lake"  by  heart,  but  had  not  been  per- 
mitted to  read  the  Waverly  Novels,  prose  fiction  not 
being  regarded  as  desirable  mental  pabulum  for  chil- 
dren. But  at  this  time,  being  quick  and  apt  with  my 
lessons,  of  which  I  had  far  too  few,  and  having  plenty 
of  time  to  spare,  some  fiction  was  allowed.  I  was  a  shy 
and  sensitive  child,  disincHned  to  intimacy  with  the 
rough  older  boys  of  the  school  and  living  far  too  much 
by  myself,  and  when  the  enchanted  world  of  Dickens's 
earlier  works  was  opened  to  me,  I  went  about  as  in  a 
dream,  having  found  solace  for  all  my  woes,  real  and 
imaginary. 


1 854       Chapter  Three       1862 

WHEN  I  was  about  fourteen,  my  father  felt  that 
the  state  of  his  health  made  it  necessary  to  give 
up  business.  This  was  to  him  a  great  disappointment. 
He  had  ambitious  plans  and  a  very  able  young  part- 
ner in  William  Brown  to  help  him  carry  them  out. 
But  there  was  no  doubt  that  he  was  suffering  from 
consumption,  which  at  that  time  was  considered  an 
hereditary  disease  (my  grandmother  died  of  it)  so  he 
felt  it  necessary  to  be  quite  relieved  from  his  business 
responsibilities.  Our  delightful  home  was  broken  up 
and  my  father  and  I  went  together  to  various  places 
in  New  England,  searching  for  a  climate  which  would 
be  favourable  to  him.  He  had  already  had  more  than 
one  season  in  Florida  and  concluded  that  he  was  bet- 
ter off  in  the  North.  We  came  at  last  to  Burlington, 
Vermont,  a  town  which  seemed  to  offer  what  we  were 
seeking.  There  was  an  academy  where  boys  were  fitted 
for  college,  in  which  I  was  placed  and  the  family  at 
last  joined  us  and  we  settled  down  for  the  winter. 

This  was  for  me  a  precious  time.  I  had  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  being  a  whole  season  with  my  dear  father 
as  his  only  companion  and  came  to  understand,  as 
never  before,  the  sweetness  of  his  nature  and  the 
beauties  of  his  mind.  He  knew  that  his  case  was  incur- 

( 47  ) 


able,  but  he  was  determined  to  live  as  long  as  possible 
for  the  joy  he  had  in  life  and  for  the  good  of  his  fam- 
ily, and  he  did  live  undismayed,  with  the  sword  of 
Damocles  hanging  over  his  head,  for  twelve  years, 
cheerful,  companionable,  unselfish  up  to  the  very  hour 
of  his  sudden  but  peaceful  death. 

It  was  a  pleasant  winter  which  the  family  passed 
in  Burlington.  In  the  evenings  we  read  much  together 
and  I  was  very  proud  of  being  permitted  to  read 
Shakespeare  with  my  sisters,  Emily  and  Eliza.  We 
were  all  too  young  and  inexperienced  to  understand 
much  of  these  wonderful  plays,  but  their  influence 
upon  me  was  altogether  inspiring.  During  my  long 
life,  I  have  seen  Shakespeare  played  by  famous  artists 
on  many  a  stage,  but  I  have  never  had  greater  delight 
in  the  works  of  the  immortal  master,  than  in  those 
quiet  evenings  when  we  three  made  our  first  acquaint- 
ance with  this  inexhaustible  treasure  house. 

But  the  winds  from  the  beautiful  lake  were  too  vio- 
lent for  my  father,  and  he  finally  decided  to  move  to 
Williamstown.  Besides  considerations  of  health,  he 
was  influenced  by  the  fact  that  his  namesake,  our 
cousin,  Charles  Weston  Jenkins,  to  whom  we  were  all 
much  attached,  was  about  to  enter  Williams  College, 
and  by  the  hope  that  his  influence  might  induce  me  to 
follow  his  example. 

I  was,  however,  haunted  by  an  awful  fear  that,  if  I 

( 48  ) 


went  to  college  I  would  be  obliged  to  enter  the  minis- 
try, for  I  was  in  a  state  of  spiritual  rebellion  and  deeply 
resented  my  strict  religious  training.  This  dread,  and 
a  morbid  habit  of  introspection,  wrought  so  upon  my 
excitable  nervous  system,  that  I  was  quite  incapable 
of  steady  work  of  any  kind.  I  spent  long  days  roaming 
about  the  woods  with  a  gun,  not  wanting  to  shoot 
anything,  but  impelled  to  solitude  and  to  fitful  physi- 
cal activity.  It  was  a  distressing  time,  for  I  knew  that 
my  conduct  was  undutiful  and  stupid,  but  I  could  not 
find  myself  nor  subdue  my  waywardness. 

At  last  my  sweet  sister  Eliza  died.  She  was  as  beau- 
tiful as  an  angel  and  she  surely  had  an  angelic  charac- 
ter. I  have  still  a  tress  of  her  wonderful  hair,  which 
now,  after  more  than  half  a  century,  glistens  like  bur- 
nished gold. 

Her  every  tone  was  music's  own, 

Like  that  of  morning  birds, 
But  something  more  than  melody 

Dwelt  ever  in  her  words. 

Her  "coinage  of  the  heart"  bore  the  mark  of  com- 
plete unselfishness,  for,  from  her  earliest  childhood, 
she  had  shown  a  spirit  so  noble,  that  it  had  seemed  as 
if  goodness  were  no  eflxDrt  to  her.  It  was  one  of  my 
greatest  sorrows  after  her  death,  that  my  abnormal 
reticence  had  kept  me  from  ever  telling  her  how  dear 
she  was  to  me.  But  in  my  early  years,  the  spontaneous 

(   49   ) 


expression  of  earthly  affection  was  considered  un- 
seemly, life  was  too  serious  and  earnest  for  showing 
even  natural  emotions. 

During  all  this  time  I  was  growing  ever  more  dis- 
contented. I  longed  prematurely,  but  passionately, 
for  an  active  life  and  begged  my  father  to  let  me  go  to 
sea.  This  desire  did  not  seem  unnatural  to  him  and, 
after  a  time,  during  which,  unknown  to  me,  he  was 
making  arrangements  for  the  purpose,  he  gave  his 
consent.  I  was  to  go  in  one  of  the  family  ships,  the 
captain  of  which  was  a  distant  relation  by  whom  I 
was  to  be  instructed  in  navigation  and  be  taught  my 
duties.  I  was  greatly  excited  by  the  joyous  news  and 
with  my  father  began  to  plan  my  outfit  and  where  we 
should  purchase  it,  when  my  mother  interfered.  She 
had  privately  written  to  our  cousin.  Nelson  Moore,  an 
artist  in  Hartford,  begging  him  to  find  me  a  position 
in  that  city.  He  replied  that,  if  I  would  come  at  once, 
I  could  be  taken  as  junior  clerk  into  the  publishing 
house  of  Silas  Andras  and  Son,  which  was  rather  an 
unusual  opportunity.  My  mother  felt  that  it  was 
natural  for  my  father,  with  his  family  traditions,  to 
be  willing  that  I  should  become  a  sailor,  but  I  was  her 
only  son  and  she  would  not  submit  to  such  a  separa- 
tion. How  I  have  blessed  her  since  then  for  this  act  of 
self-assertion,  so  unlike  her  usual  gentle  submission  to 
the  wishes  of  those  she  loved.  She  knew  how  unfitted  I 

(  50  ) 


was  for  such  a  life  and  that  my  too  precocious  desire 
to  see  the  world  was  founded  upon  no  stable  basis;  but 
none  of  us  could  then  foresee  that  in  a  few  short  years 
the  flourishing  American  merchant  marine  would  be 
swept  from  the  ocean,  as  one  of  the  consequences  of 
our  Civil  War,  and  such  a  career  as  I  had  planned, 
even  had  I  been  suited  to  it,  would  have  failed  me. 

So,  in  the  month  of  October,  1856,  not  being  quite 
sixteen  years  of  age,  I  was  sent  to  Hartford  to  engage 
in  what  proved  to  be  an  agreeable  employment. 

Silas  Andras  and  Son  published  chiefly  standard 
works,  largely  composed  of  English  classics.  The  head 
of  the  firm  was  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school  and 
the  business  was  conducted  upon  conservative  lines. 
There  was  a  large  bindery  and  a  printing  press  and  a 
great  storehouse  filled  with  the  stereotyped  plates 
from  which  the  books  were  printed.  As  the  youngest 
clerk,  I  had  many  and  varied  duties,  but  they  were 
all  congenial,  for  I  was  always  in  the  atmosphere  of 
books.  In  the  beginning  I  came  to  the  store  early 
enough  to  make  the  fire  in  the  furnace  during  the 
winter  and  prided  myself  upon  doing  it  better  than 
the  janitor.  I  quickly  learned  to  pack  books  in  boxes 
and  keep  accurate  account  of  everything  intrusted  to 
my  care,  but  I  wasn't  of  much  use  as  assistant  book- 
keeper. It  was  so  apparent  that  I  had  no  talent  for 
accounts,  that  I  was  kept  at  work  to  which  I  was 

(   SI    ) 


better  suited,  such  as  being  sent  out  to  pay  and  collect 
bills  and  to  run  all  sorts  of  errands. 

Nelson  Moore  had  found  a  boarding  place  for  me, 
to  which  later  he  and  his  wife  came  also,  in  the  family 
of  Dr.  Fuller,  a  physician  broken  in  health  and  who, 
with  his  family  of  one  daughter  and  three  sons,  con- 
stituted a  really  charming  circle.  At  first  for  a  few 
weeks  I  lived  in  an  ordinary  boarding  house,  fre- 
quented chiefly  by  young  men,  but  their  society  was 
most  distasteful  to  me.  Not  one  of  them  seemed  to 
have  another  thought  than  of  vulgar  amusements  or 
of  how  they  could  "do"  their  employers,  and  it  was 
only  after  some  time  that  I  could  find  among  young 
men  of  my  own  class  any  congenial  companions.  But 
for  the  matter  of  that,  I  have  never  been  greatly  de- 
pendent upon  companionship  and  in  the  time  I  spent 
in  Hartford  I  employed  nearly  all  my  leisure  in  read- 
ing. I  believe  that  I  went  through  every  book  pub- 
Hshed  by  the  firm,  reading  deliberately  and  forming 
a  taste  for  true  literature  which  has  been  through  all 
my  subsequent  life  a  source  of  great  enjoyment  and 
profit. 

But  the  great  event  of  my  stay  in  Hartford  was  the 
awakening  of  my  spiritual  nature.  I  had  been  brought 
up  in  such  a  pronounced  religious  atmosphere  that, 
when  I  was  free  from  the  restraint  of  home  for  the 
first  time,  I  rejoiced  greatly  in  the  liberty  to  order  my 

( 52  ) 


life  as  suited  me  and  I  gave  up  attendance  at  church 
and  revelled  in  reading  any  books  I  liked  all  Sunday- 
through.  This  seemed  a  tremendous  dissipation,  for 
hitherto  I  had  not  been  allowed  to  read  any  other  than 
religious  books  on  Sunday,  and  to  be  able  to  do  as  I 
pleased  in  this  particular  was  a  great  and  delightful 
novelty.  After  some  months,  however,  a  revival  oc- 
curred in  Hartford.  There  were  many  extra  services 
held  in  all  the  churches.  Noonday  prayer  meetings 
were  held  in  the  business  part  of  the  town.  Bands 
of  young  men  went  about  the  streets  singing  hymns, 
and  the  whole  community  gave  itself  up  to  religious 
ecstasy.  Naturally  I  felt  its  influence  also,  but  not 
largely  in  the  emotional  sense.  I  thought  over  the 
situation  as  far  as  possible  from  the  standpoint  of  my 
heredity  and  education  and  frankly  chose  to  accept 
the  Christian  faith  and  determined  to  live  the  Chris- 
tian Hfe.  It  was  a  struggle,  for  I  foolishly  fancied  that 
it  was  a  manly  thing  to  live  free  from  the  restraints  of 
religion,  and  I  was  by  nature  inclined  to  selfishness 
and  could  easily  have  gone  on  the  road  which  leads 
to  destruction;  but  by  God's  mercy,  I  then  found  the 
true  light  and  ever  since  my  religion  has  been  to  me, 
imperfectly  as  I  have  lived  it,  a  great  safeguard  and 
a  great  joy. 

In  the  course  of  my  life  I  have  seen  something  of 
many  kinds  of  people  professing  Christianity  and 

(   53   ) 


have  long  ago  emancipated  myself  from  expecting  to 
find  in  any  sect  or  in  any  human  character  that  per- 
fection for  which  mankind  should  strive;  but,  writing 
as  I  now  am,  when  the  very  foundations  of  European 
civilization  are  shaking  under  the  feet  of  whole  na- 
tions rushing  to  battle,  and  the  most  awful  tragedy  in 
all  history  is  being  enacted  before  a  shuddering  world, 
I  wish  to  record  my  belief  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
good  over  evil  and  of  love  over  hate.  This  is  the  es- 
sence of  the  Christian  faith  and  he  who  loses  it  has 
nothing  left  which  can  supply  its  loss,  even  should  he 
possess  the  whole  world  and  originate  a  new  system 
of  philosophy. 

For  nearly  two  years  I  continued  to  live  in  Hart- 
ford, diligent  in  my  business,  omnivorous  in  my  read- 
ing, fastidious  in  my  associates,  and  full  of  fantastic 
notions  of  my  own  importance. 

Owing  to  a  foolish  exposure,  I  was  laid  up  for  some 
weeks  with  a  sharp  attack  of  sciatica,  the  lingering 
effects  of  which  I  have  felt  during  all  my  life.  But  this 
illness  was  a  blessing  in  disguise.  Long  days  and  nights 
of  pain  subdued  my  restless  spirit  and  taught  me  the 
first  lesson  of  humility;  and  the  kindness  and  consid- 
eration of  my  employers  and  the  sympathy  and  atten- 
tion of  my  few  friends  and  acquaintances  transformed 
the  imaginary  world  in  which  I  was  prone  to  live,  into 
a  vital  and  precious  reality. 

(   54  ) 


In  the  mid-summer  of  1858,  owing  to  the  death  of 
the  junior  partner,  the  firm  of  Silas  Andras  and  Son 
gave  up  their  business  and  I  was  out  of  employment. 

The  effects  of  the  business  depression  of  the  pre- 
vious year  were  still  felt  everywhere  and  all  my  efforts 
to  secure  a  new  position  in  Hartford  were  unavailing. 
My  father  had  also  suffered  from  the  hard  times  and 
had  returned  to  Bangor,  where  he  had  been  offered 
the  position  of  treasurer  of  the  Theological  Seminary, 
an  office  for  which  he  was  well  adapted,  as  he  was  an 
excellent  man  of  business,  and  some  occupation  was 
necessary  for  him. 

It  was  with  mingled  joy  and  pain  that  I  returned  to 
my  family.  It  was  delightful  to  be  again  with  those  I 
loved,  but  all  my  hopes  of  getting  on  in  a  promising 
business  were  dashed  and  it  was  humiliating  to  be 
again  dependent  upon  my  father  at  a  time  when,  in 
spite  of  all  his  generosity,  I  knew  he  could  ill  afford  it. 
My  dear  father,  oblivious  of  what  I  began  to  suspect 
was  in  me  a  temperamental  unfitness  for  business, 
tried  in  vain  to  find  a  firm  needing  some  additional 
capital  where  he  could  place  me  in  some  capacity  and 
be  secure  of  not  losing  his  investment.  But,  fortu- 
nately, all  these  plans  came  to  naught.  I  had  a  great 
distaste  for  accounts  and  no  just  idea  of  the  value  of 
money  and  felt  certain  that,  in  any  but  a  very  con- 
genial business,  I  should  be  a  failure.  My  attitude 

(   55   ) 


towards  going  to  college  and  my  dread  of  being  forced 
into  the  ministry  had  changed,  but  I  felt  it  was  too 
late  to  begin  an  elaborate  preparation  for  a  profession, 
and  I  was  still  very  anxious  to  see  the  world. 

Just  at  the  time  of  my  greatest  perplexity,  I  was 
obliged  to  place  myself  for  a  long  treatment  in  the 
hands  of  an  extraordinarily  skilful  dentist.  Philander 
Evans  was  his  name.  He  was  a  man  of  great  natural 
abihty  but  had  had  few  advantages  of  education,  gen- 
eral or  professional;  in  fact,  he  was  a  characteristic 
example  of  the  self-made  American,  whom  to  know  is 
to  respect.  I  came  to  admire  his  work  and  to  see  that 
it  was  something  which  I  could  learn  and  do  well.  It 
was  a  profession  in  which  I  saw  great  possibilities,  as 
it  was  just  beginning  to  be  regarded  as  a  specialty  of 
medicine  and  had  an  unknown  range  of  usefulness  to 
be  exploited.  It  would,  moreover,  supply  me  with  a 
chance  to  escape  from  the  terribly  trying  climate  of 
New  England,  for  I  feared  that  I  could  not  long  live 
in  this  climate  without  breaking  down  in  health.  From 
my  earliest  recollection  I  had  never  been  physically 
comfortable,  except  in  summer,  and  I  passionately 
longed  to  escape  to  a  more  genial  climate.  I  had  also 
heard  that  American  dentists  were  welcome  in  Europe 
and  that  I  could,  if  I  became  an  expert  operator,  make 
my  way  in  any  country  which  I  might  choose.  I 
talked  it  over  with  Evans,  who  was  willing  to  receive 

(  56  ) 


me  as  a  student,  and  then  proposed  it  to  my  father, 
who  finally  gave  his  consent.  I  was  to  stay  with  Evans 
for  a  year  at  least  and  he  was  to  give  me  every  advan- 
tage of  learning  whatever  he  knew,  for  a  fee  of  one 
hundred  dollars,  and,  when  I  became  so  efficient  as  to 
be  of  real  use  to  him,  he  would  employ  me  as  an 
assistant. 

Never  before  had  I  found  anything  which  interested 
me  so  much.  I  quickly  mastered  all  the  books  Evans 
gave  me,  much  to  his  surprise,  and  made  equal  prog- 
ress with  the  technical  training  in  the  laboratory.  It 
was  well  for  me  that  I  had  a  master  who  regarded  den- 
tistry chiefly  as  a  mechanical  art.  He  had  been  origi- 
nally a  mechanic  and  had  learned  to  use  his  hands 
with  great  dexterity.  At  that  time  vulcanized  rubber 
had  not  been  discovered  and  I  had  to  learn  consider- 
able metallurgy  and  to  practise  what  I  learned  in  pre- 
paring gold  and  silver  bases  for  plates  for  artificial 
teeth.  I  came  to  be  an  expert  in  the  fine  work  required 
in  the  laboratory  and  this  training  and  experience  were 
of  great  value  to  me  in  future  years.  At  this  time  the 
cohesive  property  of  gold  had  not  been  discovered  and 
all  gold  fillings  in  teeth  were  made  upon  the  principle 
of  wedging.  Evans  had  completely  mastered  this  diffi- 
cult art  and  practised  it  most  successfully.  There  were 
at  that  time  but  very  few  dentists  in  the  world  who 
could  do  this  work  so  perfectly  as  he.  It  was  just  the 

(   57   ) 


work  which  interested  me  chiefly  and  I  took  great 
pains  to  learn  all  my  principal  could  teach  me  regard- 
ing it. 

Dental  students  in  those  days  were  often  an  un- 
couth lot.  There  was  a  man  named  Porter  who  had 
not  done  well  in  his  medical  studies  and  who,  in  con- 
sequence, had  the  previous  year  begun  to  study  under 
Evans,  in  the  hope  of  becoming  a  dentist,  and  who  was 
then  employed  in  the  laboratory.  One  morning  I  came 
rather  belated  to  my  work  and  excused  myself  to 
Porter  by  saying  that  I  had  been  delayed  in  getting 
my  bath.  "But  this  is  Wednesday!"  he  said.  I  ex- 
plained that  I  was  accustomed  to  take  a  bath  every 
morning.  "What  an  almighty  dirty  fellow  you  must 
be!"  was  his  response. 

I  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age  when  I  began  to 
study  dentistry,  and  the  following  years,  up  to  the 
death  of  my  dear  father,  were  full  of  interest  to  me.  I 
lived  at  home  with  my  family  and,  despite  my  father's 
frail  health,  we  were  all  very  happy  together.  Cousin 
Charles,  who  was  studying  at  the  Theological  Semi- 
nary, was  much  with  us  and  my  parents  looked  upon 
him  as  a  son.  The  old  traditions  of  hospitality  were 
preserved  and  there  were  almost  always  some  guests 
in  the  house.  My  sister,  Emily  Hart,  attracted  many 
charming  young  people  to  our  home.  There  was  much 
music  and  a  deal  of  sprightly  conversation,  but  no 

(  58  ) 


dancing,  for  among  our  people  the  Puritan  traditions 
survived  in  great  force  and  dancing  and  card  playing 
were  discountenanced.  Emily  Hart  had  many  suitors 
but  none  of  them  received  the  least  encouragement,  so 
far  as  we  could  see.  The  death  of  her  sister  had  been 
a  great  grief  to  her  and  she  found  some  solace  in  deep 
devotion  to  our  parents,  both  of  whom  needed  tender 
care.  Only  William  Brown,  who,  after  his  partnership 
with  my  father  had  been  dissolved,  had  gone  into  the 
same  business  in  Portland,  seemed  to  be  visiting  Ban- 
gor more  often  than  was  strictly  necessary,  and  at 
last  I  was  scarcely  surprised  when  my  sister  one  day 
took  me  aside  and  shyly  told  me  that  he  wished  to 
marry  her.  A  very  little  questioning  made  it  plain  that 
her  affections  were  engaged,  but  she  hesitated  to  ac- 
cept her  happiness,  in  obedience  to  that  passion  for 
self-sacrifice  which  the  New  England  conscience  of 
that  day  sedulously  cultivated.  Emily  felt  that  she 
ought  not  to  desert  her  parents,  who,  in  their  frail 
health,  were  so  greatly  dependent  upon  her  compan- 
ionship and  thoughtful  care,  although  she  knew  that 
both  of  them  heartily  approved  of  Mr.  Brown  and 
had  gladly  given  their  consent  to  his  suit.  Gently  I 
urged  her  to  consult  only  her  own  happiness  as  the 
one  sure  method  of  securing  the  happiness  of  others, 
and  I  was  much  delighted  when,  some  days  after- 
wards, she  yielded,  not  to  my  arguments  to  be  sure, 

(   59   ) 


but  to  the  dictates  of  her  own  loving  heart.  It  was  a 
beautiful  marriage,  for  it  was  founded  not  only  upon 
affection  but  also  upon  mutual  respect,  and  when 
Emily  died,  on  the  fourth  of  April,  1879,  we  had  in  our 
grief  at  her  untimely  decease  the  consolation  of  know- 
ing that  for  eighteen  years  she  had  lived  in  as  great 
happiness  as  is  possible  to  our  mortal  lot. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  in  1861  brought  to 
me,  as  to  all  young  men  of  my  time,  great  exaltation 
of  spirit.  My  father  knew  the  South  well  and,  al- 
though he  had  hoped  that  slavery  might  eventually 
be  abolished  by  an  arrangement  with  the  Southern 
statesmen,  through  keeping  the  territories  free  from 
the  further  extension  of  slavery,  he  understood  better 
than  many  that  the  war  was  destined  to  be  long  and 
fearful  in  sacrifice.  My  impulse  was  to  enlist  at  once, 
although  I  had  some  misgivings  as  to  my  fitness  for  a 
soldier's  life,  both  on  account  of  my  dehcacy  of  health 
and  my  temperamental  aversion  to  all  forms  of  strife. 
But  since  the  marriage  of  my  sister  my  parents  had 
become  more  dependent  upon  my  companionship  and 
it  was  a  struggle  between  my  duty  to  them  and  to  the 
country.  At  last  I  decided  that  I  was  more  needed  and 
could  be  more  useful  at  home  than  in  the  field  and 
carried  out  my  plans  for  completing  my  education  by 
going  to  Philadelphia,  where  I  attended  lectures  at 
the  dental  college  and  the  Jefferson  Medical  School. 

(  60 ) 


In  those  days  dental  and  medical  schools  were  con- 
ducted in  a  happy-go-lucky  way,  but  there  was  much 
to  be  gained  by  any  serious  student  and  I  finally 
graduated  at  the  oldest  American  dental  college,  the 
Baltimore  College  of  Dental  Surgery. 

To  have  the  diploma  of  this  school  would  be  an  ad- 
vantage, since  I  was  intending  eventually  to  practise 
abroad,  but  I  could  not  go  there  to  study,  because  the 
whole  state  of  Maryland  was  seething  with  the  pas- 
sions excited  by  the  war  and  might  be  led  into  seces- 
sion at  any  moment.  The  Baltimore  faculty,  however, 
considerately  admitted  me  to  examination  and  I 
passed  satisfactorily.  I  had  had  rather  a  rare  experi- 
ence in  administering  chloroform  and  ether  and  had 
prepared  a  thesis  upon  Anaesthesia  which  met  with 
their  approval. 

Upon  returning  home,  I  took  over  the  practice  of 
Dr.  Lincoln  and  began  to  get  that  practical  experience 
which  was  so  necessary  before  I  could  think  of  going 
abroad  to  cultivate  a  larger  field. 

My  parents  had  given  up  housekeeping  and  were 
boarding  in  a  private  family,  where  there  was  scant 
room  for  me,  so  I  went  to  live  at  the  Penobscot  Ex- 
change, a  very  good  old  house,  kept  by  Abraham 
Woodard,  who  was  one  of  the  well-known  citizens  of 
Bangor.  You  can  form  some  idea  of  the  conditions  of 
that  time,  where,  in  spite  of  the  war,  food  was  very 

(   6i    ) 


cheap  and  plentiful,  when  you  know  that  I  had  at  this 
most  excellent  hotel  a  large  room  with  many  windows, 
and  full  board,  for  five  dollars  a  week.  There  were 
some  boarders  who  had  less  desirable  rooms  who  paid 
only  three  dollars  fifty  per  week.  Food  was  indeed  so 
cheap  that  even  the  poorest  people  were  wasteful  in 
its  use  and  the  tables  of  hotels  of  the  better  class  were 
lavishly  supplied  with  every  delicacy  of  the  season.  I 
usually  sat  at  a  long  table  frequented  by  professional 
and  business  men,  whose  society  was  very  entertain- 
ing. The  artist  Cloudman  interested  me,  since  he  had 
studied  in  France  and  had  also  had  a  varied  experience 
of  life,  but  the  business  men  regarded  him  as  an  object 
of  compassion,  since  his  world  was  so  remote  from 
theirs.  One  day  Cloudman  was  talking  of  crossing  the 
Isthmus  in  the  glorious  gold-fever  days  of  '49  and  of 
seeing  there  green  monkeys  in  the  jungle.  "What, 
green  monkeys?"  asked  one  of  the  men.  "Yes,  Sir, 
green,"  answered  Cloudman.  "Isn't  that  so,  Mr. 
Payne?"  addressing  a  man  whom,  on  account  of  his 
enormous  size,  we  all  called  "the  Infant."  "Now 
Cloudman,"  said  Payne,  "hitherto  I  have  endorsed 
every  statement  you  have  made  at  this  table,  but  I 
can't  stand  green  monkeys." 

During  the  beginning  of  my  active  life,  my  intimate 
companions  were  few.  I  still  read  a  good  deal  and  was 
much  occupied  with  plans  for  the  future,  but  there 

(  62  ) 


were  some  men  to  whom  I  became  much  attached. 
Among  them  were  two,  Dr.  Thomas  Upham  Coe,  a 
physician,  who  commenced  practice  in  Bangor  at  the 
same  time  as  myself  and  whose  office  was  next  to 
mine,  and  Frederick  Davenport,  a  musician,  both  of 
whom  I  found  especially  congenial  and  whose  influ- 
ence over  me  in  quickening  my  thought  and  extending 
my  sympathies  was  both  agreeable  and  useful.  Dr. 
Coe  had  studied  in  Paris  and  Davenport  was  familiar 
with  the  history  of  all  European  musicians  and  with 
much  general  European  history,  and  when  our  con- 
versation turned  upon  European  subjects,  I  was  al- 
ways deeply  interested. 

Besides  my  cousin  Charles,  whose  ennobling  com- 
panionship was  very  precious  to  me,  there  was  a 
group  of  theological  students  of  whom  I  saw  much 
and  I  was  greatly  impressed  with  the  freedom  of 
thought  and  the  devotion  to  practical  good  work 
which  characterized  these  fine  young  fellows  in  con- 
trast to  the  severe  aspect  of  the  religion  of  my  child- 
hood. It  was  a  great  and  inspiring  era  for  an  ardent 
and  imaginative  soul.  The  golden  age  of  American 
literature  was  at  its  zenith  and  it  had  been  deeply 
stirred  by  European  thought  and  letters.  It  was  said 
that  a  greater  number  of  the  works  of  Longfellow 
were  sold  in  England  than  of  the  works  of  Tennyson; 
and  that  a  greater  number  of  the  works  of  Tennyson 

(  63  ) 


than  of  Longfellow  were  sold  in  America.  The  works 
of  Dickens  and  Thackeray  and  others  were  often  pub- 
lished simultaneously  in  England  and  America,  and  I 
remember  how  impatiently  they  were  awaited  and 
how  universally  they  were  read  and  appreciated. 

The  speculative  thought  of  continental  Europe  had 
also  deeply  affected  that  time.  One  of  the  most  influ- 
ential agents  seems  to  have  been  the  philosophy  of 
Comte,  which,  through  its  appeal  to  the  sympathetic 
instincts  and  its  earnest,  if  somewhat  fantastic  preach- 
ing of  the  Religion  of  Humanity,  was  reflected  in 
every  literature  and  affected  all  classes  of  men.  I  re- 
member how,  early  in  the  war,  a  translation  of  Victor 
Hugo's  "Les  Miserables"  was  published  in  America. 
It  was  read  "by  the  watchfires  of  a  hundred  blazing 
camps,"  being  especially  adapted  to  the  conditions  of 
that  time;  but  I  recollect  how  shocked  I  was  at  hear- 
ing our  revered  Professor  Harris  denounce  it  from  the 
pulpit,  when  I  felt  that  it  had  been  a  moral  inspira- 
tion to  me.  For  this  was  a  time  of  spiritual  awakening 
to  broader  sympathies  and  every  family  and  every  in- 
dividual felt  its  influence. 

At  the  first  shock  of  arms.  Cousin  James  Howard 
Jenkins  had  enlisted  in  Fletcher  Webster's  regiment. 
He  had  a  romantic  history,  which  I  hope  he  will  leave 
recorded,  but  I  will  mention  only  some  of  the  facts 
which  remain  in  my  memory.  He  had  a  good  voice  and 

( 64 ) 


was  very  fond  of  singing,  which  he  led  when  his  com- 
pany was  on  the  march.  Somewhere  he  heard,  at  a 
negro  camp  meeting,  a  song  of  unmeaning  words  with 
the  chorus  of  "glory,  glory,  hallelujah!"  Now  there 
was  in  his  company  a  small  man  named  John  Brown, 
whose  equipment  seemed  too  great  for  his  stature,  but 
who  was  still  nearly  as  strong  in  body  as  he  was  un- 
daunted in  spirit.  So  Howard  composed  a  song:  "John 
Brown's  knapsack  is  strapped  upon  his  back,"  etc. 
"His  soul  goes  marching  on." 

This  song  was  taken  up  at  once  by  his  company  and 
was  from  them  taken  over  by  the  marching  host,  but 
its  original  words  came  to  be  changed  to  "John 
Brown's  body  lies  a  mouldering  in  the  grave,"  etc., 
perhaps  an  appropriate  change  for  a  Massachusetts 
regiment  to  make  in  honour  of  the  memory  of  the  heroic 
fanatic  of  Harper's  Ferry.  At  least  this  is  the  true 
origin  of  that  famous  song. 

Howard's  gift  of  music  was  a  blessing  to  many. 
Years  after  the  war  was  over,  I  was  one  day  intro- 
duced to  a  man  at  the  Anglo-American  Club  in  Dres- 
den, who  asked  me  if  I  was  any  relation  of  a  man 
named  Howard  Jenkins,  who  was  one  of  the  Federal 
soldiers  confined  in  Libby  Prison.  When  I  said  that 
he  was  my  cousin,  the  man  was  much  pleased  and 
told  me  that  Howard  was  the  best  beloved  man  in  the 
prison.  He  was  inexhaustible  in  his  efforts  to  cheer  up 

(   6j   ) 


his  despondent  comrades.  He  contrived  to  make  a 
banjo  out  of  unlikely  material  and  formed  a  company 
of  minstrels,  which  gave  many  entertainments  and  in 
a  thousand  ways  showed  a  spirit  of  gaiety  and  sym- 
pathy which  was  of  great  comfort  to  the  men  of  less 
buoyant  temper. 

Howard  was  one  of  a  small  group  of  men  who  had 
conspired  to  dig  out  of  the  part  of  the  prison  where 
they  were  shut  up  at  night.  They  finally  completed  a 
tunnel  which  reached  just  outside  the  line  of  sentries 
and  waited  for  a  sufficiently  stormy  night  to  make 
their  escape.  When  the  favourable  night  came  they 
drew  lots  for  precedence,  it  being  possible  for  only  one 
man  at  a  time  to  crawl  through  the  small  tunnel,  and 
a  certain  interval  was  allowed,  sufficient  for  the  first 
man  to  escape,  before  a  second  man  made  the  at- 
tempt. When  Howard's  turn  came,  he  saw  that  the 
man  to  follow  him  was  a  married  man  who  had  been 
very  anxious  about  his  family,  and  so  he  insisted  that 
they  should  change  places.  When,  however,  the  time 
elapsed  and  Howard  was  about  to  enter  the  tunnel, 
the  alarm  was  given  and  firing  was  heard  all  over  the 
place.  The  few  who  remained  hastily  closed  up  the 
entrance  to  the  tunnel  and  awaited  the  result.  Some 
of  the  men  were  captured  and  returned,  but  How- 
ard could  not  learn  if  the  man  to  whom  he  gave  his 
place  had  been  shot  or  if  he  had  escaped.  Afterwards 

(   66   ) 


Howard  was  sent  to  Charleston  to  be  one  of  the  offi- 
cers exposed  to  fire  if  the  defenses  were  attacked,  as 
was  threatened  by  the  Federal  navy,  and  it  was  only- 
late  in  the  war  that  he  was  finally  exchanged  and 
came  home  in  pitiable  physical  condition,  but  with  his 
noble  spirit  as  high  as  ever  and  his  gaiety  unquenched. 

At  the  time  of  the  World's  Fair  at  Chicago,  Libby 
Prison,  which  was  originally  a  great  warehouse,  was 
taken  down  and  brought  to  Chicago  and  put  up  in  the 
Fair  Grounds.  Early  one  morning  Howard  went  to 
visit  the  place  where  he  and  many  others  had  suffered 
so  cruelly,  not  wishing  to  go  there  later  in  the  day 
when  it  would  be  crowded;  and,  after  he  had  nearly 
finished  his  inspection,  he  came  suddenly  upon  the 
man  to  whom  he  had  given  his  place  in  the  tunnel  on 
that  memorable  night.  They  gazed  upon  each  other 
and  clasped  hands,  but  not  a  word  could  they  speak, 
so  overwhelmed  were  they  with  emotion,  and  after  a 
time  they  parted  silently,  never  to  meet  again. 

Our  cousin,  Dr.  John  Foster  Jenkins,  whom  you 
children  can  scarcely  remember,  was  a  distinguished 
and  beloved  physician.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  he 
joined  with  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  in  establishing 
the  Sanitary  Commission,  the  precursor  of  the  now 
International  Red  Cross,  and  remained,  under  great 
personal  sacrifice,  its  efficient  and  admired  general 
secretary  during  the  whole  war. 

( 67  ) 


Cousin  Charles  interrupted  his  studies  to  join  the 
Christian "  Commission,  an  organization  formed  by- 
churches  of  various  denominations  to  provide  chap- 
lains and  carry  on  religious  work  in  the  army  in  the 
field.  This  commission  was  designed  to  aid  the  regular 
chaplains,  for  whom  the  work  was  often  too  great, 
especially  when  the  men  were  in  camp,  and  it  also  did 
much  relief  work  in  the  hospitals.  If  my  memory 
serves  me  correctly,  Charles  served  as  field  agent  for 
about  two  years  and  then  returned,  after  having  car- 
ried great  responsibihties  and  accomplished  much 
good,  sadly  broken  in  health  by  overwork  and  ex- 
posure. The  following  letter  will  give  you  an  idea  of 
the  character  of  his  work  and  the  spirit  in  which  he 
conducted  it. 

Brandy  Station,  February  3,  1864 
Dear  Newell: 

Although  for  the  fortieth  time  it  is  past  the  season  for  retiring 
when  I  complete  the  business  of  the  day,  I  wi/I  write  you  before 
another  mail  leaves,  in  witness  whereof  read  the  following.  You 
shall  know  the  history  of  to-day  as  an  illustration  of  my  busy 
hfe  here  and  in  proof  that  the  plea  "want  of  time"  is  not  an  idle 
or  a  lazy  one. 

Gave  Mr.  Kimbal,  Station  Agent,  a  memorandum  of  work  to 
be  done  at  this  point.  Had  the  horse  saddled  for  an  early  start, 
but  was  detained,  as  usual,  by  chaplains  and  others  calling  on 
business.  About  to  start,  when  Rev.  Aaron  Adams,  delegate, 
rode  up  with  his  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  McKay  of  the  hospital.  Dis- 

(  68   ) 


cussed  probability  of  being  able  to  assign  him  to  a  station  near 
Mrs.  M.  More  chaplains  meanwhile.  Interruptions  from  Mr. 
Shaw,  who  says  the  drivers  won't  mind  him,  by  Kimbal,  who 
wishes  directions  about  flooring  and  seating  chapel  tent  and 
from  telegraph  messenger — "five  chapel  flies  left  last  night." 
Break  away  from  callers,  ride  to  Gen.  Patrick's  Hd.  Qrs.  and 
get  passes  for  six  new  delegates  arrived  last  night.  Home  by 
noon.  Send  two  of  the  freshmen  to  Culpepper,  one  to  3rd.  corps, 
keep  two  here — laymen — to  saw  boards  for  flooring,  etc.  Ride 
over  to  Mr.  Foster's  to  procure  team  and  niggers  to  corduroy  a 
larger  section  of  this  mud-hole.  A  nice  gentleman  is  Mr.  Foster, 
but  his  promise  is  as  weak  as  mine  would  be.  N.B.  I  don't  make 
any  in  the  army.  Niggers  came  without  team,  so  Shaw  reports, 
so  they  chop  wood  and  haul  manure  for  a  living.  Chaplains  beg 
hard  for  boards.  Am  inexorable.  Can't  spare  one.  "But  there's  a 
great  pile  unused!"  Can't  help  it — 'nary  a  board.  Give  a  canvas 
roofing  to  Chap.  Egan,  Roman  Catholic,  that  he  may  celebrate 
Mass  for  the  9th  Massachusetts.  Liberal,  eh?  What  will  Cole 
say?  Don't  think  he  will  greatly  object,  as  he  is  a  young  man. 
What  if  the  Boston  Record  should  hear  of  it?  Don't  care  a 
picayune  for  the  whole  orthodox  set — i.e..  Record  type.  They 
can  send  the  Asst.  Field  Agent  home  if  they  please,  but  he  will 
do  fair  by  all.  And  it  is  better  for  men  to  be  hearing  Mass  than 
telling  lies,  swearing,  stealing,  gambling  and  drinking.  Another 
Irish  chaplain,  Protestant,  tries  for  a  canvas  without  complying 
with  the  conditions.  No  S'w-re — most  respectfully — and  there- 
fore silently.  Tie  up  my  tent,  which  has  been  flapping  violently 
in  the  cold  wind,  to  the  disjointure  of  stovepipe  and  conse- 
quently loss  of  fire.  Write  letters  to  Station  Agents  answering 
questions  and  enclosing  circular  letter.  Set  Albee  at  copying 
mem.  Talk  with  Smith,  who  wants  to  go  home  before  his  time 

(  69  ) 


expires.  Supper.  Make  out  memda.  for  to-morrow.  Inspect 
work;  praise  the  cook  and  scold  the  driver;  prayers,  write  to 
you  and  go  to  bed.  More  to-morrow  if  possible. 

Thursday,  February  4. 

I  was  provoked  this  morning  by  the  running  away  of  Rev.  C.  D. 
His  time  will  not  be  up  for  a  week,  but  he  left  without  reporting 
here.  Young  graduate  of  Andover.  Provoked  again  by  Rev. 
S.  S.  A.  who  is  anxious  to  do  the  big  thing,  but  is  terribly  slow; 
distributes  largely  through  chaplains,  holds  fine  meetings  and 
thinks  he  can  manage  half  the  army  alone.  Omits  pastoral  work 
altogether.  Provoked  the  third  time  by  J.  W.  S.,  D.D.,  who 
failed  to  keep  an  appt.  to  lecture  in  Culpepper  on  Temperance. 
Extensive  notice  had  been  given,  officers  invited  to  hear  the  big 
man,  but  he  preferred  to  preach  to  1 1  Mass.  "I  wither  him  with 
one  of  my  scorching  frowns" — as  much  as  possible.  "Very 
sorry,  great  injury  to  the  Com. — supposed  the  obligation  bind- 
ing, etc.,  etc."  It  turns  out  that  Mr.  Story  of  Boston,  whose 
hobby  is  temperance,  was  on  the  ground  and  kept  the  appt.  No 
thanks  to  the  Dr.,  but  my  mind  is  relieved — M.  and  A.F.  are 
here,  the  former  as  large  eyed  the  latter  as  affable  as  ever. 
M.  shows  his  ears  as  prominently  as  ever,  came  in  from  a  sta- 
tion miles  off  to  give  me  unnecessary  advice  and  supposed  infor- 
mation— walking  both  ways  in  deep  mud.  He  is  with  a  ranting 
Methodist  who  is  quite  overbearing  in  his  ways.  A  queer  team 
they  are.  The  station  agent  is  a  "slim  Caesar,"  but  a  little  more 
of  a  man  than  either  of  the  others.  Bah!  Enough  of  C.  C.  par- 
sons. I  go  to-morrow  to  Culpepper  to  start  another  station. 
Hope  soon  to  have  more  leisure  or  rather  some;  a  Mr.  Williams 
is  coming  who  will  also  act  as  Asst.  Field  Agent. 

(    70    ) 


Best  love  to  Clara.  It  is  near  twelve  and  the  tent  is  cold.  A 
hearty  good  night  as  I  roll  myself  in  blankets  on  the  soft  side 
of  boards  carefully  thus  placed  in  my  office  bunk.  Meeting  of 
delegates  to-morrow,  a  day  crowded  with  work.  Patience,  per- 
severance and  the  sweet  oil  of  Christian  kindness  will  carry  us 
through  nicely. 

Thine  sleepily, 

Charles 


1 862        Chapter  Four        1866 

DURING  the  second  year  of  the  war,  on  October 
26, 1 862,  occurred  the  death  of  my  father.  He  had 
been  as  well  and  cheerful  as  usual  during  the  day.  In 
the  evening,  while  I  was  visiting  my  parents,  he  was 
attacked  by  a  sudden  hemorrhage  and  died  almost 
instantly  in  our  very  arms.  His  death,  although  we 
had  all  schooled  ourselves  to  expect  it  at  any  moment, 
came  to  my  mother  and  me  as  a  great  shock,  but  she 
was  wonderfully  sustained  through  the  power  of  her 
religious  faith.  I  was,  however,  overwhelmed  with  un- 
availing regrets  that,  in  my  selfish  and  wayward 
youth,  I  had  often  caused  him  grief  and  that,  in  my 
more  reasonable  early  manhood,  restrained  by  my 
shyness  and  reticence,  I  had  forborne  to  tell  him  how 
completely  I  honoured  and  loved  him.  But  the  mem- 
ory of  his  noble  and  generous  character  has  been  an 
enduring  blessing  to  me  and  I  believe  all  of  his  grand- 
children, although  they  knew  him  not,  have  been  also 
blessed  through  inheriting  many  of  his  rare  quahties 
of  mind  and  heart. 

After  a  time  my  mother  went  to  Portland  to  live  in 
the  family  of  my  sister,  where  she  had  a  delightful 
home  and  was  devotedly  cared  for. 

This  event  would  have  left  me  more  disconsolate, 

( 72  ) 


had  it  not  been  that  I  had  fallen  desperately  in  love 
with  the  loveliest  maiden  in  the  world.  Your  precious 
mother  was  then  just  eighteen  years  old  and  as  fair 
in  person  as  she  was  noble  in  mind  and  character.  I 
cannot  express,  even  to  you,  how  sacred  this  first  and 
only  passion  was  to  me. 

For  a  long  time,  i  t  seemed  ages  to  me,  my  sui  t  was  un- 
availing; but  at  last,  in  the  blessed  springtime  of  1863, 
she  graciously  accepted  me,  **and  ever  since  my  days 
have  been  of  gold,  my  nights  have  been  of  silver." 

You  must  often  have  wondered  how  two  people  of 
such  varying  temperaments  could  either  have  loved 
each  other,  or,  loving,  have  managed  to  live  together. 
This  is  one  of  the  many  mysteries  of  the  love  which 
many  waters  cannot  quench.  But  also  her  logical 
habit  of  mind  constituted  a  happy  foil  for  my  im- 
pulsiveness and  her  sweet  reasonableness,  patience 
and  tenderness,  while  they  could  not  subdue  my  un- 
ruly imagination,  qualified  it  and  made  it  less  unprac- 
tical. Surely  from  the  moment  I  was  betrothed  to  her, 
my  whole  life  was  exalted.  The  somewhat  vague  plans 
I  had  formed  for  my  future  began  to  shape  themselves 
more  practically.  I  was  then,  and  have  been  all  my 
life  through,  in  ever-increasing  ratio,  ambitious  of 
winning  her  approval,  as  the  highest  possible  reward; 
and,  indeed,  but  for  her  I  might  have  ever  remained  a 
mere  dreamer. 

(  73  ) 


As  it  was,  I  began  to  take  life  far  more  seriously.  I 
did  what  I  could  to  profit  from  my  practice,  in  order 
to  gain  the  experience  I  should  need  in  a  new  field.  At 
one  time  I  had  a  mad  plan  of  going  to  Cuba  to  seek  a 
wider  field,  but  gave  it  up  when  I  found  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Upton  strongly  disapproved.  They  did  not  disapprove 
of  me  as  a  prospective  son-in-law,  but  objected  to 
their  daughter  being  taken  to  a  "pestilential  island 
province,"  as  Mr.  Upton  fitly  termed  the  "Pearl  of 
the  Antilles." 

But  when  the  war  was  well  over  and  my  practice 
had  improved,  we  were  married,  on  June  8,  1865.  As 
we  all  wished,  it  was  a  very  quiet  wedding  at  the 
bride's  home,  only  members  of  the  family  and  a  few 
intimate  friends  being  present.  Although  our  pastor, 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Field,  conducted  the  wedding  cere- 
mony, Clara's  Aunt  Mary  always  insisted  that  she 
was  the  chief  factor  in  making  the  marriage  possible, 
through  discreetly  dosing  her  niece  with  cordials,  for 
the  bride  had  overtaxed  her  strength  and  needed  a 
stimulant,  which  only  Aunt  Mary  could  induce  her  to 
take. 

We  took  our  wedding  journey  to  Mount  Desert  in  a 
private  carriage  which  I  drove  myself,  and  for  some 
time  had  the  whole  island  to  ourselves,  for  it  was  just 
before  the  commencement  of  the  summer  season.  One 
day  we  nearly  drove  over  a  rattlesnake,  the  only  one 

(  74 ) 


I  ever  saw,  except  in  captivity  and,  indeed,  I  had  not 
before  believed  that  they  could  exist  in  Maine.  We 
drove  one  morning  to  the  foot  of  Green  Mountain 
and,  finding  no  road  to  the  top,  we  went  afoot  up  a 
narrow  pathway  leading  to  the  summit.  The  path  was 
bordered  by  a  dense  growth  of  underbrush  and,  after 
we  had  gone  perhaps  half  way,  I  suddenly  noticed 
fresh  bear  tracks.  They  were  evidently  made  by  a 
she  bear  with  a  cub,  so  I  called  a  halt  and  examined 
the  situation.  They  had  probably  passed  up  the  path 
in  the  early  morning,  and  it  was  then  in  the  middle 
of  the  forenoon,  so  it  could  be  expected  that  they  had 
gone  into  cover  somewhere  by  this  time.  Your  mother 
was  not  in  the  least  timid,  as  I  knew,  and  when  she  de- 
clared that  she  wanted  to  proceed,  I  myself  thought 
it  safe  to  run  the  risk,  but  I  kept  a  wary  lookout 
ahead.  At  last  we  came  to  a  place  where  the  under- 
brush ended  and,  away  at  the  right,  was  a  place  over 
the  rocks  where  the  footprints  ceased  and  it  seemed 
evident  that  Mrs.  Bruin  and  her  offspring  had  made 
their  way  to  their  own  mansion  in  a  neighboring 
cavernous  cliff.  So  we  reached  the  top  and  had  a  glo- 
rious view,  but  I  was  glad  enough  when  we  got  safely 
back  again,  pleased  as  I  was  that  my  wife  had  shown 
no  fear. 

How  precious  to  me  is  the  memory  of  those  simple 
days !  How  dear  were  our  modest  pleasures !  The  rage 

(   75   ) 


for  amusement  and  the  exactions  of  society  which 
characterize  these  modern  days  often  partake  of  the 
quahty  of  dissipation  and  leave  Httle  opportunity  for 
reflection  and  repose.  Not  that  I  find  fault  with  your 
generation,  my  children.  Every  age  has  its  own  char- 
acter and  thinks  its  own  thoughts  and  impresses  the 
world  in  its  own  ways,  but  it  is  always  the  case  with 
one  in  advanced  age  that  he  feels  it  to  be  true  espe- 
cially of  his  time  that  "something  sweet  follows  youth 
with  flying  feet — and  it  never  comes  again." 

We  came  back  to  live  at  a  hotel,  for  we  did  not  wish 
to  give  hostages  to  fortune  by  the  cares  of  house- 
keeping. I  was  more  than  ever  determined  to  seek  a 
career  abroad  and  was  shaping  my  course  to  bring  it 
about. 

In  the  spring  of  1866  we  beheld  the  face  of  our  first- 
born, whom  we  named  Fanny.  We  had  her  imme- 
diately baptized,  as  it  was  evident  that  she  could  not 
live;  but  as  I  held  the  wee  creature  in  my  arms  for  the 
sacred  rite,  I  suddenly  realized  the  meaning  of  the 
tender  emotions  of  fatherhood.  If  I  have  tried  to  be  a 
good  father  to  you,  my  children,  I  have  not  been  un- 
influenced by  the  birth  and  death  of  the  sister  you 
never  knew. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  I  received  a  letter 
from  Dr.  Frank  Abbot  in  Berlin,  to  whom  I  had  writ- 
ten of  my  intention  to  go  abroad  for  practice  and  ask- 

( 76  ) 


ing  his  advice  as  to  a  desirable  place  to  settle.  We 
knew  his  family  in  America  and  were  acquainted  with 
his  career.  His  amiable  and  favourable  reply  was  de- 
cisive. He  said  that  if  I  were  **a  good,  honest  oper- 
ator" I  was  sure  to  succeed  and  he  would  recommend 
Dresden  as  offering  a  good  opening. 

Going  to  Europe,  and  especially  going  there  to 
settle  permanently,  was  in  those  days  not  to  be  lightly 
undertaken.  It  was  first  necessary  to  get  the  consent 
of  your  mother's  parents.  This  required  some  time. 
They  were  devotedly  attached  to  their  daughter  and 
Europe  seemed  a  long  way  off.  Your  grandfather 
Upton  had  much  of  his  property  in  ships  and  he  was 
also  the  president  of  the  Marine  Insurance  Company 
and  these  business  relations  led  him  to  look  at  the 
question  less  narrowly  than  was  the  case  with  your 
grandmother.  The  war  between  Prussia  and  Austria 
had  also  broken  out  and  that  delayed  immediate 
action;  but  finally  the  family  opposition  was  over- 
come, the  war  came  to  a  rapid  and  brilliant  conclusion, 
I  settled  up  my  affairs  and  we  took  our  departure.  It 
was  regarded  as  an  adventure  in  our  little  circle  and 
we  received  many  tokens  of  interest  and  sympathy. 

My  father-in-law  told  me  if  I  was  determined  to  go, 
I  must  succeed  and,  if  I  needed  help,  I  was  to  call  upon 
him;  and  my  brother-in-law,  William  Brown,  told  me 
the  same;  but  Cousin  Charles,  after  the  tradition  of 

(   77   ) 


the  family,  gave  me  from  his  Httle  patrimony  twelve 
hundred  dollars  outright  in  American  Government 
bonds,  which,  he  said,  could  "be  repaid  when  con- 
venient." This  was  really  a  great  comfort,  both  be- 
cause of  the  loving  spirit  which  prompted  the  gener- 
ous, but  not  altogether  prudent  action,  and  because  I 
was  by  no  means  sure  that  my  unaided  means  would 
be  sufficient  for  my  purpose.  Having  these  bonds  in 
reserve,  however,  gave  me  confidence  and  help  in 
more  than  one  emergency. 

We  sailed  on  October  7,  1866,  on  the  Saxonia,  an 
auspicious  name,  as  we  felt,  and  we  had  the  good  luck 
to  get  the  largest  cabin  on  the  ship.  In  those  days  a 
journey  to  Europe  was  in  great  contrast  to  such  a  trip 
now.  The  Saxonia  was  of  only  3000  tons,  but  she  was 
then  regarded  as  a  large  ship.  She  was  seaworthy,  as 
was  shown  by  her  conduct  in  extremely  nasty  weather, 
but  comfortable  she  was  not.  She  creaked  horribly  in 
a  rough  sea,  as  she  rolled  and  pitched  in  the  waves 
which  occasionally  rushed  all  over  her,  she  was  full  of 
vile  odours  and  there  were  troops  of  rats,  who  disported 
themselves  gleefully  by  night  upon  our  cabin  floor  and 
occasionally  visited  us  in  our  berths.  When  the  stew- 
ardess was  remonstrated  with  regarding  these  noc- 
turnal visitors,  she  replied:  "Oh,  rats  no  hurt,  they 
everywhere,  cats  bad  but  rats  nice."  Although  we 
knew  the  sailor  superstition  of  rats  deserting  a  ship 

(  78  ) 


destined  to  destruction,  we  were  not  quite  prepared 
to  find  it  surviving  on  an  Atlantic  liner,  but  years 
afterward,  in  reading  the  elaborate  regulations  upon 
a  passenger  steamer  on  the  Elbe,  plying  between 
Dresden  and  Schandau,  we  found  that,  under  certain 
conditions,  it  was  allowed  to  take  dogs,  yet  under  no 
circumstances  was  it  permitted  to  passengers  to  take 
cats  on  the  ships  of  this  line.  I  have  often  asked  the 
reason  for  this  rule,  but  could  never  get  an  answer  and 
am  obliged  to  suspect  that  it  is  a  survival  even  to  this 
day  of  an  ancient  sea-going  superstition  on  a  river 
steamer  in  the  heart  of  Europe  six  hundred  kilometers 
from  the  sea. 

Among  the  twenty  first-class  passengers  were  two 
charming  people,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ensign,  who  were  on 
their  way  to  Dresden  also.  We  quickly  made  their  ac- 
quaintance, together  with  that  of  all  other  voyagers, 
since  in  those  days  passengers  were  brought  more  im- 
mediately into  relation  with  each  other,  there  being 
little  opportunity  for  seclusion  and  a  European  voy- 
age partaking  far  more  of  the  nature  of  an  adventure 
than  is  now  the  case. 

All  the  way  until  we  reached  the  Needles  the 
weather  was  very  stormy  and  for  several  days  no  pas- 
sengers were  allowed  to  go  on  deck,  and  nearly  all  of 
us  envied  and  detested  a  sea-proof  old  lady,  who  sat 
all  day  reading  by  the  swinging  and  odorous  cabin 

(   79   ) 


lamp,  quite  unconcerned  at  the  antics  of  the  ship  and 
devouring  her  rations  with  an  appetite  the  gratifying 
of  which  we  felt  to  be  as  inconsiderate  as  it  was  mon- 
strous. But  before  the  voyage  was  over,  we  found  her 
to  be  an  amiable  and  interesting  woman. 

For  two  romantic  young  people  to  come  suddenly 
upon  the  Needles  at  night,  so  near  that  we  could  have 
tossed  a  biscuit  onto  their  barren  tops;  to  see  the  bea- 
cons flashing  across  the  dark  water  and  the  lights  on 
an  occasional  passing  ship,  and  at  last  those  from 
houses  on  the  solid  shore  of  our  storied  motherland, 
and  to  awake  the  next  morning  to  the  white  cliffs  of 
Dover  and  the  English  Channel  sparkling  in  the  sun, 
was  bliss  indeed. 

The  Ensigns,  with  whom  we  had  arranged  to  travel 
to  Berlin,  had  long  been  preparing  for  this  trip  and 
already  knew  a  little  German  and,  when  we  finally 
landed  at  Hamburg  at  night  and  found  no  one  to 
interpret  for  us,  Mr.  Ensign,  in  desperation,  called 
outinto  the  darkness,"/Ffl  ist  derKutscherV  Instantly 
came  the  response,  ''HierV  and  in  amoment  adroschke 
came  rattling  up.  It  was  delicious  to  see  Ensign's 
astonishment  that  he  could  be  understood,  and  it  was 
truly  a  pleasant  foretaste  of  the  convenience  and 
comfort  which  from  that  moment  we  were  to  find 
everywhere  in  Europe.  How  delightful  were  these 
first  experiences  of  a  foreign  land.  The  hotels,  the  rail- 

(  80 ) 


roads,  the  splendid  public  buildings,  the  cleanliness 
and  order  of  the  cities,  the  civility  and  good  temper  of 
the  numerous  officials  and  the  wonderful  cultivation 
of  the  land  were  only  some  of  the  most  obvious  con- 
trasts, favourable  or  unfavourable,  to  the  conditions 
we  all  knew  in  America,  and  each  of  them  gave  an  in- 
dividual, delicious  thrill. 

As  soon  as  practicable  after  reaching  Berlin,  we 
went  to  call  upon  the  Abbots.  They  received  us  as  if 
we  were  of  their  own  family  and  from  that  moment 
began  a  friendship  which  has  been  one  of  the  greatest 
benefits  and  blessings  of  our  life. 

Dr.  Abbot  was  then  the  most  distinguished  den- 
tist, with  the  possible  exception  of  Dr.  Evans  in  Paris, 
in  all  Europe.  He  was  esteemed  not  only  for  his  pro- 
fessional accomplishments,  but  also  for  his  exalted 
character.  He  was  a  type  of  the  best  kind  of  Ameri- 
can, kindly,  sympathetic  towards  all  men,  but  abso- 
lutely loyal  to  his  own  noble  principles.  Although  he 
was  not  liable  for  military  service,  he  had  sent  a  man 
to  represent  him  in  the  American  army  during  the 
war,  and  his  house,  in  the  sad  years  the  war  lasted, 
was  the  rendezvous  of  loyal  Americans  in  Berlin. 
Throughout  all  Europe  society,  both  American  and 
foreign,  was  largely  in  sympathy  with  the  Confeder- 
acy and  It  required  no  little  moral  stamina  to  support 
resolutely  and  intelligently  the  cause  of  the  Federal 

(    8i    ) 


Government  against  violent  social  prejudices  which 
were  almost  universally  encouraged  by  the  European 
press.  It  was  instinctive  with  monarchical  countries 
to  desire  the  overthrow  of  the  Western  Republic,  or 
at  least  to  see  it  divided  against  itself.  I  have  gone 
through  in  later  years,  the  files  of  the  London  'Times 
for  the  period  of  our  Civil  War.  It  affords  most  instruc- 
tive reading,  as  it  represents  the  opinion  of  the  ruling 
classes  in  our  own  motherland  at  this  time,  an  opinion 
which  would  be  even  more  discreditable,  were  it  not 
that  these  were  years  in  which  it  was  often  said  that 
"ignorance  of  America  was  taught  as  a  branch  of 
learning  in  British  universities."  These  conditions  ob- 
tained still  more  completely  in  Germany. 

Just  before  sailing  from  New  York,  we  went  to  call 
upon  Mr.  Theodore  Fay,  Mrs.  Abbot's  father,  who 
had  been  in  the  American  diplomatic  service  all  his 
life,  his  last  post  being  that  of  Minister  to  Switzerland. 
He  was  so  interested  and  encouraging  regarding  our 
plans,  that  we  were  partially  prepared  to  find  the 
Abbots  sympathetic  also,  but  we  did  not  expect  to  be 
received  with  such  overwhelming  kindness.  Dr.  Abbot 
insisted  that  I  should  come  every  day  to  his  office, 
that  I  might  see  how  a  European  practice  was  man- 
aged. He  let  me  stand  by  his  chair  and  see  him  oper- 
ate and  explained  reasons  for  certain  methods  of 
treatment  which  were  either  not  understood  or  not 

(  82 ) 


practised  in  America.  He  introduced  me  to  many  of 
his  most  important  patients,  especially  to  those  who 
had  any  connection  with  Dresden,  and  told  all  such 
that  they  must  go  to  me  when  I  became  established 
there,  for  I  determined,  after  my  first  conversation 
with  Dr.  Abbot,  to  settle  in  that  delightful  capital. 

It  was  rare  in  those  days  to  have  a  visit  from  a  den- 
tist fresh  from  America,  and  Abbot  and  his  few  Ger- 
man colleagues  who  had  studied  in  America  flattered 
me  by  asking  me  to  show  them  the  latest  methods  of 
practice.  I  was  able  to  demonstrate  to  them  the  use  of 
the  rubber  dam,  which  had  only  recently  been  discov- 
ered, and  they  taught  me  in  return  many  ingenious 
methods  of  their  own,  designed  to  secure  a  dry  field  in 
which  to  operate.  We  had  many  a  seance  at  Dr. 
Abbot's  office  when  his  day's  work  was  finished  and  I 
learned  far  more  than  I  was  able  to  impart.  Dr.  Abbot 
was  a  very  rapid,  gentle  and  skilful  operator  and, 
among  much  else,  he  taught  me  his  methods  of  filling 
large  cavities  with  a  combination  of  tin  and  gold  foil, 
the  practical  value  of  which  was  very  great.  I  have 
seen  from  him,  and  have  made  myself,  innumerable 
such  fillings  in  obscure  and  difficult  positions,  which, 
even  when  made  under  water,  have  preserved  the 
teeth  from  secondary  decay  as  no  other  material 
could  do. 

We  lived  for  three  weeks  in  a  German  family,  where 

(  83 ) 


we  heard  much  German  conversation,  from  which 
your  mother  profited  far  more  than  I,  for  during  this 
time  I  was  wholly  absorbed  in  preparing  to  go  to 
Dresden.  I  had  determined,  like  Dr.  Abbot,  to  estab- 
Hsh  only  an  operative  practice  for  treating  solely  the 
diseases  of  the  teeth,  and  not  to  undertake  the  making 
of  artificial  teeth,  but  to  adhere  to  the  specialty  for 
which  I  had  the  greater  interest  and  capability.  It  was 
for  this  also  that  there  was  the  greater  demand,  there 
being  no  native  dentists  at  that  time  who  were  very 
skilful  in  operative  dentistry. 

One  delightful  feature  of  European  practice  in  the 
set  into  which  I  was  introduced  was  the  complete  ab- 
sence of  professional  jealousy.  This  was  partly  due  to 
the  great  extent  of  the  field  and  the  scarcity  of  capable 
practitioners,  but  even  more  was  owing  to  the  exam- 
ple and  influence  of  Abbot.  He  was  incapable  of  nar- 
rowness. If  he  disapproved  of  the  character  or  action 
of  a  colleague,  he  told  him  so  to  his  face,  but  in  so 
kindly  a  manner  as  to  correct  but  not  offend  him.  He 
was  as  fearless  as  he  was  tender  and  as  wise  as  he  was 
generous,  exercising  his  great  influence,  professional 
and  personal,  in  complete  unselfishness. 

One  morning  I  saw  Bismarck  for  the  first  time.  He 
was  coming  out  of  the  royal  palace  and  he  swaggered 
down  Unter  den  Linden  drawn  up  to  his  full  height, 
with  his  sabre  clanging  and  his  head  thrown  back, 

(  84 ) 


completely  ignoring  the  cringing  people  who  saluted 
him  on  every  hand.  Only  a  few  weeks  before  he  had 
left  Berlin  reviled  and  threatened  by  the  populace, 
who  generally  disapproved  of  the  Austrian  war,  of 
which  they  knew  him  to  be  the  instigator.  Now  he  had 
returned  victorious,  with  Prussia  greatly  enlarged  and 
at  the  head  of  the  Nord  Deutscher  Bund.  Since  then 
I  have  seen  this  extraordinary  man  on  many  occa- 
sions, but  the  memory  of  the  pride,  arrogance,  self- 
will  and  undisguised  contempt  for  those  who  fawned 
upon  him  which  he  then  displayed  remained  with  me 
and  affected  my  judgement  even  in  the  years  of  his 
greatest  achievements,  during  which  I  hoped  that  he 
might  lead  the  German  nation  into  the  ways  of  self- 
government. 

While  in  Berlin,  both  then  and  later,  we  saw  some- 
thing of  Mr.  Wright,  the  American  Minister ;  Governor 
Wright,  as  he  was  generally  called,  he  having  been 
Governor  of  Indiana  when  appointed  to  Berlin.  He 
was  a  characteristic  western  politician,  very  uncon- 
ventional, but  of  kindly  and  yet  forceful  character. 

He  was  reported  to  have  entertained  the  court  by 
relating  how,  in  his  early  years,  he  lived  in  a  log  cabin 
with  his  first  wife,  who  smoked  a  corncob  pipe  on  one 
side  of  the  fire  in  the  evening,  while  he  chewed  tobacco 
on  the  other.  We  could,  of  course,  understand  and 
respect  him,  but  it  did  seem  as  if  he  were  out  of  place 

(  85  ) 


as  representative  of  America  to  one  of  the  most  formal 
courts  in  Europe.  But  we  liked  his  grit.  He  was  be- 
lieved to  be  the  only  man  in  Berlin  who  was  not  afraid 
of  Bismarck.  The  first  time  I  saw  him  he  was  com- 
plaining that  his  trunks  and  those  of  his  wife  had  been 
detained  at  the  frontier  on  a  return  journey  from 
Paris,  but  comforted  himself  that  he  would  have  it  out 
with  Bismarck  at  once.  This  he  did  and  not  only  put 
an  end  to  the  detention  of  the  baggage  of  diplomats, 
but  also  had  the  annoyances  to  which  ordinary  pas- 
sengers had  been  exposed  at  the  frontier  alleviated. 
One  of  his  friends  told  me  that  he  went  hurriedly  one 
morning  to  the  palace  of  the  chancellor  to  lodge  a 
complaint.  Bismarck  received  him  for  a  moment,  but 
at  once  said:  "I  have  no  time  to  talk  with  you  this 
morning,  Mr.  Wright."  He  replied:  "You  are  not  talk- 
ing to  Mr.  Wright,  but  to  the  Minister  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  under  whose  orders  is  placed  the 
American  fleet  at  present  in  the  North  Sea  and  you 
shall  listen  to  me.  Sir." 

Years  afterwards,  Mr.  Alley,  who  had  long  been  a 
member  of  Congress  from  Massachusetts,  was  stay- 
ing for  a  time  in  Dresden.  One  Fourth  of  July,  I  took 
him  for  a  trip  to  Konigstein  and  dined  him  at  our 
house  in  the  evening.  We  had  a  long  talk  over  many 
matters  that  interested  me  and,  among  others,  I  asked 
him  what  chance  there  was  of  the  passing  of  the  Civil 

(  86  ) 


Service  Reform  Bill,  which  had  recently  been  intro- 
duced in  Congress.  He  thought  none  whatever, — al- 
though he  personally  desired  it, — because  all  politi- 
cians were  interested  in  keeping  up  the  spoils  system, 
as  affording  them  the  most  convenient  tools  with 
which  to  work,  and  he  spoke  contemptuously  of  the 
intelligence  of  the  people,  who,  he  said,  would  only 
seriously  demand  what  the  politicians  allowed  them 
to  desire.  Then  he  gave  me  an  instance  of  the  power 
of  the  spoils  system.  He  went  one  day  with  Senator 
Charles  Sumner  to  remonstrate  with  President  Lin- 
coln upon  the  impending  appointment  of  Governor 
Wright  to  Berlin.  Sumner  was  spokesman  and  en- 
larged, in  his  impressive  way,  upon  the  unfitness  of 
Wright  to  represent  America  at  such  a  pohshed  court. 
The  President  listened  patiently  to  all  Sumner  had  to 
say  and  then  replied:  "I  admit  I  have  made  some 
unfit  appointments  and  I  presume  you  think,  Mr. 
Sumner,  that  you  could  have  made  better  appoint- 
ments from  the  one  state  of  Massachusetts  alone." 
Sumner  smiled  and  said  he  thought  he  could.  Mr.  Lin- 
coln answered:  *T  don't  doubt  it  and  I  grant  all  you 
say  about  the  importance  of  having  a  cultivated  rep- 
resentative of  the  United  States  at  Berlin.  But,  while 
this  would  be  very  desirable,  it  is  now,  in  the  midst  of 
the  war,  absolutely  necessary  that  the  Government 
should  win  this  coming  election,  and,  to  that  end,  we 

(  87  ) 


must  secure  the  state  of  Indiana  for  the  Repubhcan 
party.  Governor  Wright  is  the  only  man  who  can  cer- 
tainly carry  the  state  for  us  and  his  price  is  the  mission 
to  Berlin." 


1866        Chapter  Five        1868 

ON  November  20,  1866,  we  started  for  Dresden. 
At  the  railway  station,  overhearing  our  blunder- 
ing attempts  to  interrogate  the  guard,  a  Russian  gen- 
tleman stepped  out  of  his  coupe,  which  was  next  to 
ours,  and,  in  beautiful  English,  courteously  offered  to 
interpret  for  us  and  to  aid  us  in  any  way  possible,  as 
he  saw  we  were  Americans  and  unacquainted  with  the 
German  language.  This  was  the  first  of  innumerable 
acts  of  kindness  which  I  have  received  from  Russians 
all  through  my  long  residence  in  Europe.  We  have  re- 
ceived attentions  from  natives  of  many  countries,  but 
the  Russians  have  surpassed  all  others  in  heartiness 
and  spontaneity  of  their  good  deeds  and  kind  words 
and  they  have  always  seemed  to  understand  Ameri- 
cans more  sympathetically  than  any  other  people  I 
have  known. 

It  was  a  dark  and  stormy  journey  of  five  hours, 
twice  the  time  now  required,  and  we  arrived  in  Dres- 
den to  find  the  streets  covered  with  half-melted  snow.* 
We  drove  to  the  Hotel  de  Saxe,  then  the  fashionable 
hotel,  and  were  assigned  rooms  of  magnificent  propor- 
tions but  very  dark  and  dismal  and  in  which  the  few 
candles  which  we  had  lighted  made  but  slight  im- 

*See  Appendix,  note  3. 

(  89  ) 


pression.  But  our  spirits  were  in  no  wise  depressed,  for 
we  had  reached  our  goal,  and  the  next  morning,  under 
the  guidance  of  an  intelHgent  valet  de  place,  named 
Kutcher,  whom  I  kept  in  my  service  for  a  few  weeks, 
we  sallied  out  to  see  the  town  and  present  our  letters 
of  introduction.  The  most  immediately  important  let- 
ters were  to  Mr.  Campbell,  the  American  consul,  and 
to  Dr.  Walther,  the  leading  physician,  both  of  whom 
received  me  with  the  utmost  consideration  and  prom- 
ised to  further  my  plans  as  much  as  possible.  How 
jubilant  we  were!  Dresden  was  delightfully  quaint, 
having  a  far  more  distinctive  character  than  now  that 
it  has  grown  so  greatly.  There  were  no  houses  beyond 
the  Wiener  Strasse,  which  itself  was  only  just  par- 
tially laid  out.  Everywhere  were  intrenchments, 
thrown  up  by  the  Prussians,  who  still  kept  possession 
of  the  city,  although  the  King  had  returned  the  day 
before  we  arrived  and  his  pathetic  proclamation  to 
the  people  was  to  be  seen  in  all  the  public  squares. 

Besides  a  considerable  English  and  American  col- 
ony, Dresden  was  full  of  diplomatists  from  every  part 
of  Europe.  The  first  day,  when  we  went  to  the  table 
d'hote  dinner,  there  sat  opposite  to  us  a  Russian  who, 
after  a  time,  thinking  he  had  touched  my  wife  with 
his  foot,  excused  himself  by  saying,  either  the  table 
was  very  narrow  or  his  legs  were  very  long,  but  he 
thought  it  must  be  that  the  table  was  narrow,  since 

( 90 ) 


he  had  never  been  accused  of  having  long  legs.  He 
turned  out  to  be  a  diplomatist,  who  remained  some 
time  in  Dresden  and  proved  to  be  an  amiable  and 
amusing  acquaintance* 

We  sought  out  the  Ensigns,  who  had  preceded  us  to 
Dresden,  and  were  able  to  learn  something  of  the  con- 
ditions in  the  town  from  the  Schusters,  who  kept  the 
pension  where  the  Ensigns  stayed.  We  rushed  about 
diligently,  seeking  for  a  furnished  flat  suitable  for  our 
purpose,  and  soon  settled  upon  a  small  parterre  on  the 
Victoria  Strasse,  opposite  a  beautiful  garden  which  is 
now  a  wilderness  of  ugly  houses. 

It  was  great  fun  getting  settled,  even  in  such  a 
hurry,  and  we  gave  a  Thanksgiving  dinner  to  the 
Ensigns  in  our  bedroom  in  the  midst  of  great  confu- 
sion and  carved  our  chicken  with  a  dilapidated  knife 
and  a  one-pronged  fork.  But  we  had  a  very  merry 
feast  all  the  same. 

A  large  box  had  preceded  us  containing  my  operat- 
ing chair  and  many  instruments,  and  we  got  permis- 
sion to  bring  them  in  free  of  duty  as  emigrant's  goods; 
but  the  custom  house  officer  at  first  objected,  saying: 
''Man  Ubersiedelt  nicht  mit  nur  einem  StuhW  ("One 
does  not  emigrate  with  a  single  chair.") 

In  the  meantime  I  had  received  my  permission  to 
practise  and,  as  soon  as  the  tiny  office  was  ready,  I 
received  my  first  patient,  a  Bangor  man  named  Pren- 

(    91    ) 


tis,  who  had  gone  to  Dr.  Abbot  in  Berhn,  but  who, 
learning  that  he  was  going  to  Dresden,  sent  him  on 
to  me.  It  was  a  great  joke  to  have  come  so  far  to  begin 
practice  upon  a  man  from  my  own  city,  but  this  was 
only  a  beginning  of  the  watchful  care  Abbot  had  over 
me.  He  wrote  and  otherwise  sent  word  to  his  patients 
in  Dresden  that  they  were  to  come  to  him  no  more, 
but  to  go  to  me,  and  from  the  very  first  day  that  I  was 
able  to  receive  patients,  they  began  to  come  in  ever- 
increasing  numbers.  I  had  adopted  the  same  scale  of 
fees  which  Dr.  Abbot  had  estabhshed  and  was  pleased 
that  the  patients  did  not  regard  it  as  presumptuous. 
Among  my  earliest  patients  was  Count  Hohenthal,  a 
well-known  Saxon  nobleman  and  the  head  of  his  in- 
fluential family.  He  had  consulted  various  dentists  in 
different  cities  regarding  an  obscure  pain  which  made 
his  life  miserable,  and  they  not  only  could  not  diag- 
nose the  cause  but  even  assured  him  that  his  suffer- 
ings were  imaginary.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  find 
the  source  of  his  pain  in  an  inflamed  pulp,  which  I 
treated  and,  from  the  very  first  moment,  eased  his  pain 
and  finally  restored  the  offending  tooth  to  perfect 
health.  His  gratitude  was  unbounded  and  he  remained 
my  constant  friend  up  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

My  first  permission  to  practise  was  for  six  months 
only.  When  this  period  had  elapsed,  complaint  was 
made  by  some  native  dentists  and  it  was  a  question 

(  92  ) 


if  the  license  could  be  renewed.  Count  Hohenthal  and 
others  among  my  patients  took  the  matter  up  and  the 
government  then  gave  me  a  permit  for  two  years,  and 
when  that  time  had  expired  they  gave  me  perpetual 
permission.  The  founding  of  the  practice  upon  an  en- 
during basis  was  easy  enough.  I  had  the  reflected  ad- 
vantage which  was  the  result  of  the  reputation  other 
American  dentists  had  obtained  in  Europe.  Abbot 
had  shown  me  the  methods  he  had  evolved  and  which 
were  especially  applicable  to  Germany.  I  came  to 
Dresden  when  the  town  was  full  of  important  people 
from  all  over  Europe.  General  von  Mertens,  the  Prus- 
sian Commandant  of  Dresden,  was  one  of  my  first 
patients  and  afterwards,  when  he  was  transferred  to 
the  Rhine,  wrote  me  to  say  if  I  would  come  to  that 
part  of  Germany,  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  help 
me  to  a  practice.  There  were  many  Germans  from 
Hanover  and  from  the  South  German  States  awaiting 
the  progress  of  events  and  innumerable  diplomatists 
from  all  Europe  using  Dresden  as  a  convenient  post 
of  observation.  After  my  first  successes,  for  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  represent  the  latest  word  in  American 
dentistry,  nearly  all  these  people  came  to  consult  me 
and,  almost  before  I  knew  it  and  long  before  I  under- 
stood its  importance,  I  had  a  European  reputation.  I 
worked  industriously,  but  with  an  ordered  purpose, 
never  sparing  myself  during  my  long  working  hours 

(   93    ) 


but  relaxing  all  serious  effort  when  these  hours  were 
over.  In  the  beginning  I  took  some  evening  lessons  in 
German,  but  almost  always  went  to  sleep  before  the 
lesson  was  over. 

We  began  to  go  with  the  Ensigns  to  concerts  and 
operas  and  your  dear  mother  profited  greatly  from 
them;  but  I  soon  found  that  music  was  an  art  which 
was  not  for  me  and,  indeed,  that  no  distraction  could 
be  permitted  to  intervene  between  me  and  my  work. 
This  I  did  with  enthusiasm.  It  was  inspiring  to  feel 
that  every  day  a  certain  amount  of  actual  good  was 
accomplished.  Often,  when  I  was  so  weary  in  body 
and  mind  that  I  could  scarcely  sit  up  at  dinner,  I  was 
sustained  by  the  thought  that,  but  formy  extra  labour, 
So-and-So  would  be  suffering  far  more  acutely  from 
actual  pain  than  I  was  suffering  from  fatigue.  From 
the  beginning  my  practice  was  to  me  a  sacred  thing. 
In  my  work  a  patient  was  a  patient.  I  gave  myself  as 
much  trouble  to  treat  a  poor  governess  as  if  she  were 
the  queen,  and  I  never  neglected  anything  for  the  wel- 
fare of  my  patient,  whether  it  was  a  charity  case  or 
the  one  from  which  I  was  to  receive  the  largest  fee.  I 
did  not  know  then,  in  the  early  years  of  my  practice, 
that  this  was  the  best  policy.  I  only  knew  that  I  must 
have  a  quiet  conscience  and  that  it  could  be  obtained 
only  by  giving  to  every  patient  my  very  best,  without 
regard  to  personality  or  to  my  own  convenience. 

(   94   ) 


One  day,  in  the  first  year  of  my  practice,  there 
came  up  a  splendid  Hveried  footman  and  asked  to  see 
me  in  person.  When  I  came  out  from  my  office  to 
speak  to  him,  he  said  his  mistress,  the  Princess  H.,  was 
in  her  carriage  at  the  door  and  wished  to  speak  to  me. 
I  told  him  if  the  princess  wished  to  see  me  she  could 
come  up  and  I  would  see  her  at  the  first  moment  pos- 
sible. He  looked  astonished  but  departed  and  pres- 
ently the  princess  came.  When  I  had  time  I  gave  her 
an  examination  and  then  arranged  for  an  appoint- 
ment, which  she  kept,  and  she  afterwards  became  one 
of  my  most  devoted  patients  and  showed  me  many 
acts  of  kindness.  But  when,  that  day,  I  rushed  out  to 
the  dining-room  for  my  hasty  lunch,  my  servant, 
Ernst,  intercepted  me  and  said,  he  begged  me  to  ex- 
cuse him,  but  he  hoped  I  would  permit  him  to  say, 
that  the  princess  had  expected  me  to  come  down  and 
stand  before  her  carriage  to  receive  her  commands, 
and  he  added  that  he  was  a  poor  man  and  ten  thalers 
was  much  money  to  him,  but  he  would  gladly  have 
given  it  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  my  reply.  I  thought 
of  it  four  years  later,  in  the  last  month  of  the  French 
war  in  1871,  when  I  was  requested,  in  a  family  emer- 
gency, to  visit  this  lady  at  the  chief  family  estate  not 
far  from  Dresden,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  being  a 
guest  for  a  few  days,  when,  although  there  were  other 
guests,  I  had  every  day  the  place  of  honour  at  the 

( 95  ) 


table  in  the  stately  room  in  which  the  alliance  be- 
tween Prussia,  Austria  and  Russia  was  arranged  which 
led  to  Napoleon's  downfall. 

One  morning  the  princess  took  me  for  a  drive  about 
the  beautifully  ordered  estate,  in  the  course  of  which 
we  came  to  some  undrained  swamps.  I  said:  "Your 
Highness,  if  this  were  a  warmer  climate,  one  might 
expect  to  find  poisonous  serpents  in  such  a  place  as 
this."  *'0h,"  she  said,  "there  are  plenty;  my  husband 
will  tell  you  about  that." 

In  the  evening,  after  dinner,  I  asked  the  prince  how 
it  could  be  that  dangerous  serpents  were  still  found 
in  land  so  well  cultivated.  He  replied  by  relating  one 
of  his  early  experiences  upon  succeeding  to  the  estate. 
It  has  been  the  case  in  all  countries  where  primogeni- 
ture exists  that  occasionally  the  eldest  son  resents  a 
long  life  between  him  and  the  family  estates,  and  this 
may  have  been  one  of  those  instances,  for  the  heir  had 
absented  himself  so  long  that  he  was  unacquainted 
with  local  conditions.  So,  when  he  set  about  trying  to 
regulate  affairs,  with  especial  reference  to  cutting  off 
some  of  the  salaried  retainers,  he  met  with  unexpected 
obstacles. 

But,  among  others,  he  scratched  a  man  who  was  called 
the  Schlangenf anger,  saying  if  such  an  office  had  ever 
been  necessary  in  former  ages,  it  must  be  a  sinecure 
now  and  he  wouldn't  keep  such  an  official  any  longer. 

(  96 ) 


A  few  days  afterwards,  when  walking  in  the  park 
before  breakfast,  a  servant  came  and  said  one  of  the 
employes  wished  to  have  an  audience,  so  he  com- 
manded that  he  should  come  to  him  at  once.  Presently 
an  old  man  with  a  large  sack  upon  his  shoulder  came 
up,  doffed  his  cap,  kissed  the  prince's  hand  and  said : 
''Durchlauchty  ich  bin  der  SchlangenJ anger T  ("Your 
grace,  I  am  the  snake  catcher.")  Then  the  prince  ex- 
plained that  it  was  his  intention  to  abolish  all  unnec- 
essary offices  and  therefore  the  old  man  must  go.  The 
man  declared  that  it  would  be  to  him  a  great  disgrace, 
for  he  had  been  Schlangenj anger  to  His  Highness's 
grandfather  and  that  the  office  had  been  hereditary  in 
his  family  for  many  generations;  but  the  prince  was 
still  obdurate  and  could  only  say  he  would  do  some- 
thing for  the  old  man,  but  that  the  office  should  be 
discontinued.  "Well  then,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  must 
leave  the  snakes  which  I  have  caught  this  morning," 
and  thereupon  he  poured  out  the  contents  of  the  sack, 
a  mass  of  poisonous  snakes,  on  the  gravel  walk.  The 
prince  was  horrified,  commanded  the  creatures  to  be 
killed  and  hastily  promised  to  keep  the  very  efficient 
official.  He  told  me  that  he  not  only  still  kept  such  a 
man,  but  that  he  gave  a  bounty  of  a  groschen  per 
head  for  every  poisonous  serpent  killed  and  that  at 
that  time,  early  in  June,  he  had  already  paid  for  more 
than  six  hundred. 

(   97   ) 


The  Prince  also  told  me  that  poisonous  snakes 
brought  forth  their  young  alive,  while  harmless  snakes 
were  oviparous.  He  had  himself  observed  this,  but  I 
had  not  been  able  to  find  his  statement  confirmed 
until,  forty  years  afterwards,  at  the  International  Ex- 
hibition of  Hygiene  at  Dresden  in  191 1,  there  were  ex- 
hibited, in  the  Brazilian  Division,  preparations  show- 
ing that  rattlesnakes  gave  birth  to  living  snakelets 
and  that  these  were  not  the  product  of  eggs  laid  by 
the  mother  and  hatched  in  the  open,  as  with  the 
young  of  some  harmless  snakes. 

Our  social  circle  was  not  extensive.  We  both  had  so 
much  to  do,  that  we  shunned  general  society.  Dresden 
had  a  considerable  English  and  American  colony, 
among  whom  were  many  agreeable  people,  but  we 
came  to  know  them  only  slowly.  There  was,  however, 
a  little  circle  of  young  people,  such  as  some  choice 
American  students  at  the  Freiberg  mining  school,  who 
frequented  our  house  and  with  whom  we  had  much 
enjoyment.  Shortly  after  our  settling  in  Dresden, 
Grace  Ross,  a  strikingly  handsome  Bangor  girl,  came 
over  to  cultivate  her  beautiful  voice.  She  was  much 
with  us  and  met  at  our  house  a  Mr.  Stuart  M.  Buck, 
to  whom  she  became  engaged.  They  were  subse- 
quently married  and  lived  happily  ever  afterwards,  as 
did  others  who,  from  time  to  time,  had  a  part  of  their 
romance  at  our  house. 

(   98    )    ^ 


There  had  begun,  after  the  close  of  the  Civil  War,  a 
regular  American  invasion  of  Europe.  We  found  some 
nearly  impoverished  Southern  families  living  still  in 
Germany,  having  been  unable  to  return  after  the  war 
broke  out,  and  they  were  exceedingly  bitter  in  their 
feelings,  far  more  so  than  those  who  passed  through 
the  war  at  home.  But  the  general  tone  of  American 
society  was  strongly  loyal,  for  those  who  came  abroad 
then  were  almost  exclusively  from  the  North.  Among 
them  were  some  newly  enriched  people  of  scanty  cul- 
ture but  who,  through  their  lavish  expenditure  and 
pushing  ways,  were  tolerated  even  in  court  circles. 
They  were  often  a  sore  trial  to  their  compatriots  of 
more  gentle  breeding,  but  they  still  afforded  much 
amusement. 

There  was  one  family  from  the  West  who  caused  us 
all  much  entertainment.  They  had  succeeded  in  being 
presented  at  Court  for,  at  that  time,  partly  as  a  result 
of  Saxony  having  become  a  member  of  the  North  Ger- 
man Bund  and  no  longer  existing  as  an  independent 
kingdom,  and  partly  for  other  reasons  such  as  led 
everywhere  to  the  breaking  down  of  rigid  exclusive- 
ness  at  the  aggressiveness  of  newly  acquired  wealth, 
it  was  comparatively  easy  to  be  presented.  And  it  was 
very  diverting  to  observe  how  these  people  had  their 
good,  honest  heads  turned  by  their  new  experiences. 
The  head  of  the  family  advised  me  to  go  to  Court  and 

(   99   ) 


"get  decorated,"  as  if  this  were  the  most  simple  and 
natural  thing  in  the  world,  and  upon  every  occasion 
enlarged  upon  his  aristocratic  acquaintance.  One  day 
he  asked  me  to  let  the  door  remain  open  between  my 
reception  room  and  the  surgery,  that  he  might  now 
and  then  speak  to  his  wife,  who  was  in  my  operating 
chair.  He  talked  ordinarily  in  a  moderate  tone  of 
voice,  but  now  and  then  he  would  give  vent  to  a  loud 
inquiry,  such  as:  "Wife,  was  it  the  Crown  Prince  or 
was  it  Prince  George  who  said  he  was  coming  to  our 
place  to-morrow  night? "or,  "Doctor,  I  spent  a  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  in  embelHshments  on  my  estate 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  just  before  I  came 
abroad,  and  now  I  wish  I  hadn't."  The  partner  of  his 
social  glories  was  also  worthy  of  her  position.  She 
talked  in  a  deliciously  affected  way,  garnishing  her 
speech  with  scraps  of  curiously  assorted  French,  but 
when  my  professional  attentions  became  in  any  de- 
gree distressing,  she  would  squirm  about  and  revert 
to  her  normal  tone  and  cry,  "Golly!" 

The  religious  differences  of  the  English-speaking 
colony  were  characteristic.  There  were,  in  our  early 
years  of  residence,  both  a  high  and  a  low  church 
English  service.  The  priest  of  the  former,  when  he  left 
for  another  field  of  usefulness,  boasted  that  he  had  not 
left  a  single  Protestant  in  his  congregation  and  that 
he  had  nearly  succeeded  in  establishing  the  confes- 

(  loo  ) 


sional.  The  chaplain  of  the  latter,  not  to  be  outdone 
in  eccentricity,  preached  against  the  evils  of  papacy 
with  implied  application  to  this  recreant  and  trucu- 
lent opponent,  and  as  ostentatiously  prayed  for  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  as  his  rival  as  ostenta- 
tiously refrained  from  doing. 

We  went  to  the  low  church,  as  did  nearly  all  Aineri- 
cans  religiously  inclined  or  especially  patriotic,  among 
the  latter  being  our  consul,  Mr.  Campbell,  and  we 
became  much  interested  in  our  Irish  pastor.  He  was  a 
scholarly  man  and  in  time  became  a  professor  at  Dub- 
lin, but  neither  learning  nor  his  office  could  tame  his 
combativeness.  In  later  years  when  he  had  returned 
to  Dresden  for  a  visit,  I  asked  him  on  one  evening 
when  he  was  dining  with  us,  to  tell  us  what  was  his 
position  regarding  Home  Rule,  which  was  then  in  its 
early  contentious  years.  The  good  man  nearly  foamed 
with  rage  as  he  denounced  the  ignorant  and  bigoted 
Catholic  Irishmen  who  were  the  victims  of  this  mad- 
ness and  declared  that  all  the  Protestants  of  Ireland 
wanted  was  a  free  hand  and  they  would  put  an  end  to 
all  this  nonsense  by  civil  war !  More  than  forty  years 
afterwards  I  had  occasion  to  recall  his  words,  as 
Ulster  began  to  train  a  hundred  thousand  men  to 
resist  the  application  of  the  Home  Rule  Bill  and  gave 
the  German  Government  reason  to  believe,  in  the 
most  critical  emergency  of  all  history,  that  she  could 

(    lOI    ) 


depend  upon  Great  Britain  not  being  able  to  resist 
her  purposed  aggressive  action,  because  she  was  on 
the  verge  of  civil  war. 

We  Americans  also  had  our  Httle  animosities  and 
wouldn't  join  the  English  club,  but  established  a  club 
of  our  own  and  kept  it  up  for  many  years  until,  at  last, 
the  passions  of  the  war  subsided  so  far  that  the  two 
clubs  spontaneously  united.  But,  in  the  early  years  of 
our  residence  in  Dresden,  our  associates  were  chiefly 
American.  There  were  a  number  of  American  fami- 
lies, attracted  by  the  many  advantages  offered  by 
Dresden,  who  settled  down  for  years  in  this  pleasant 
capital.  Some  of  them  married  into  German  families 
and  their  descendants  are  to-day  serving  in  the  Ger- 
man army.  But  there  were  others  who  came  only  for 
a  short  time,  but  whose  society  was  so  enjoyable  as 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

One  winter  we  had  for  some  time  Governor  Curtin, 
the  war  governor  of  Pennsylvania,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  the  American  Ministry  at  St.  Petersburg, 
and  his  first  secretary  of  legation,  Mr.  Coffey,  who 
had  been  assistant  secretary  of  state  under  Lincoln, 
and  Charles  Leland,  dear  to  us  as  the  author  of  **Hans 
Breitmann,"  and  Consul  Irish,  sent  over  to  disen- 
tangle the  involved  Dresden  consulate,  and  various 
other  interesting  people. 

This  was  the  winter  when  I  gave  my  first  large  and 

(  I02  ) 


formal  dinner  party.  It  was  in  honour  of  Curtin  and 
was,  for  me,  an  event,  for  I  was  rather  desirous  of 
doing  it  well,  and,  to  my  comfort,  it  did  go  off  nicely, 
except  that  the  governor  mistook  the  time  and  came 
an  hour  too  early;  but  this  gave  him  an  opportunity 
to  talk  himself  out  upon  some  subjects  we  had  already 
discussed  together  at  Bad  Homburg,  where  I  first 
made  his  acquaintance.  It  was  most  interesting  to 
converse  with  men  who  had  stood  by  Lincoln  during 
the  war  and  who  had  themselves  played  such  a  part 
in  it.  Coffey  told  me  once  a  characteristic  story  of 
Lincoln.  One  morning  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  war, 
he  went  by  appointment  to  the  cabinet  of  the  Presi- 
dent and  immediately  the  door  was  opened  for  him  to 
enter.  At  that  moment  a  woman  in  the  crowded  ante- 
room rushed  under  his  arm,  threw  herself  at  the  feet 
of  the  President  and  began  to  plead  for  the  life  of  her 
son,  who  was  condemned  to  be  shot  the  next  day  for 
sleeping  on  his  post.  She  cried  out  that  he  had  always 
been  a  good  boy  and  had  volunteered  of  his  own  free 
will  for  the  service  and  he  couldn't  help  being  over- 
powered by  sleep  after  such  fatigue  as  he  had  under- 
gone. Lincoln  gently  raised  her  and  said:  "I  have 
promised  General  McClellan  that  I  wouldn't  pardon 
any  more  soldiers  who  were  condemned  by  court  mar- 
tial, for  he  says  it  is  subversive  to  discipline  in  the 
army.  I  sat  up  all  last  night  trying  to  find  some  flaw 

(  103  ) 


in  the  papers  regarding  your  son,  but  to  no  purpose. 
But,"  he  continued,  "I  promise  you  that  I  will  not  go 
to  bed  to-night  until  I  have  gone  through  those  papers 
again  and  find  some  point  upon  which  I  can  base  a 
pardon." 

Not  long  after  being  settled  in  Dresden,  I  began  to 
go  to  the  Victoria  Hotel  for  occasional  dinners,  and 
Carl  Weiss,  the  proprietor,  soon  became  most  useful 
to  me.  There  was  never  anything  I  wanted  done, 
which  he  could  not  put  me  in  the  way  of  doing,  or  of 
finding  someone  best  adapted  to  doing  it.  Until,  after 
many  years,  the  land  upon  which  the  hotel  stood 
became  so  valuable  for  building  purpose  that  Weiss 
felt  obliged  to  sell  it,  the  hotel  was  a  sort  of  adjunct 
to  our  domestic  establishment.  Leonard  will  remem- 
ber it,  as  will,  perhaps,  Nora  and  Grace  also.  There 
was  a  good  chej  and  a  rare  cellar  in  which  a  wonderful 
Hochheimer  Hohle  was  kept  especially  for  me.  The 
house  was  remarkably  clean  and  well  ordered  and  was 
renowned  throughout  Europe.  Many  of  my  patients 
stayed  at  this  hotel.  Leonard  may  remember  how, 
when  the  Persian  Ambassador  to  Vienna  was  once 
staying  at  this  house  on  a  visit  to  me,  Grace  wrote  her 
brother  saying  that  she  had  seen  this  personage  at  the 
hotel  and  he  was  dressed  in  his  nightie,  for  she  mis- 
took his  flowing  white  robes  for  a  nocturnal  garment. 

One  day,  when  complimenting  Weiss  upon  his  tal- 

(  104  ) 


ent  for  languages,  he  told  me  his  story.  The  ambition 
of  his  life  was  to  become  a  "professor."  He  was  study- 
ing philology  and  was  already  a  good  Sanscrit  scholar 
and  a  master  of  some  other  languages  as  well,  when 
his  father  lost  his  fortune.  Young  Weiss  felt  that  he 
must  become  the  stay  of  the  family  and  at  once  left 
the  university  and  tried  to  find  something  to  do.  He 
said  he  felt  helplessly  incompetent  for  earning  a  living 
in  any  practical  manner,  until  he  bethought  himself 
that,  as  he  had  lived  upon  the  Rhine,  where  his  father 
had  an  estate,  he  knew  a  lot  about  wine  and  so  he  de- 
termined to  become  an  inn-keeper.  He  went  to  Swit- 
zerland and  got  a  place  as  an  apprentice  in  one  of  the 
famous  hotels,  for  then,  even  more  than  now,  the 
Swiss  were  the  great  hotel-keepers.  With  his  well- 
trained  mind,  he  quickly  mastered  the  essentials  of 
the  business  and,  with  German  thoroughness,  became 
a  first-class  cook,  head  waiter,  bookkeeper,  etc.  Then 
he  came  to  Dresden,  took  the  Victoria  Hotel  and  soon 
made  it  famous.  Hillmann,  the  founder  of  the  cele- 
brated hotel  in  Bremen,  was  a  companion  of  Weiss 
and  they  studied  hotel-keeping  together  in  Switzer- 
land. One  day  just  before  Christmas,  I  ran  in  to  order 
something  and  found  Weiss  rolling  up  packages  of 
money  and  working  at  a  great  Christmas  tree,  and  I 
complimented  him  upon  his  work.  "Well,"  he  said 
"every  year  I  swear  I  will  never  do  this  again,  but 

( 105) 


then  just  before  Christmas  comes,  I  remember  how, 
when  I  was  a  learner  in  Switzerland,  my  master  gave 
a  Christmas  festival  for  all  his  employes  and  how  it 
comforted  me  in  my  loneliness,  and  then,  at  the  last 
moment,  my  wife  and  I  hurry  up  to  do  the  same  for 
our  people." 

It  once  happened  that  Queen  Carola,  loveliest  of 
royalties,  was  obliged  to  spend  several  consecutive 
hours  with  me.  As  this  involved  her  luncheon  hour,  I 
begged  the  honour  of  providing  a  lunch  for  her  at  my 
house.  Since  our  whole  domestic  establishment  was  in 
the  country,  I  went  to  Weiss,  confided  to  him  my  per- 
plexity and  asked  him  to  send  me  his  best  cook  and  to 
provide  a  simple  but  exquisite  lunch  for  the  queen  and 
one  of  her  ladies,  who  always  came  with  her.  The 
service  would  be  by  my  own  people  and  I  also  pro- 
vided a  wonderful  bottle  of  Johannisberger,  one  of  a 
few  Prince  Metternich  had  given  me.  Weiss  promised 
to  have  everything  arranged  in  the  best  manner. 
When  the  time  was  nearly  at  hand,  I  excused  myself 
for  a  moment  and  ran  out  to  the  kitchen  to  see  for 
myself  if  all  was  in  order,  and  there  I  found  not  the 
Victoria  chef^  but  Weiss  himself,  with  his  sleeves  rolled 
up  and  engaged  in  cooking.  I  told  him  with  many 
thanks  that  I  had  not  meant  to  ask  him  to  do  this 
work,  but  he  replied:  **Do  you  think  I  would  permit 
my  servant  to  cook  for  my  queen  when  I  might  have 

(  io6  ) 


the  honour  of  doing  it  myself  ? "  Later  I  told  the  queen 
of  this  and  she  was  much  touched  and  pleased,  as  she 
always  was  at  any  evidence  of  genuine  attachment. 

Good  old  Weiss!  How  many  kind  and  generous 
deeds  have  I  known  him  to  do !  One  of  the  most  strik- 
ing examples  was  the  care  he  took  of  the  wife  and 
children  of  the  criminal,  Thomas.  This  man  and  his 
family  had  lived  much  at  the  Victoria  Hotel,  where 
Thomas  was  regarded  as  a  well-meaning,  jovial  fellow 
of  rather  coarse  tastes,  but  the  last  man  to  be  sus- 
pected of  criminal  intent.  When  the  dreadful  tragedy 
occurred  at  Bremen,  followed  by  the  suicide  of 
Thomas,  his  distracted  wife  rushed  with  her  children 
from  Leipzig  to  Dresden  to  place  herself  under  the 
protection  of  her  former  friend,  Frau  von  Funke,  the 
wife  of  the  Stadt  Commandant.  It  was  impossible  for 
the  von  Funkes  to  keep  them  and  they  came  to  me  in 
their  perplexity.  I  at  once  thought  of  Weiss  and  asked 
him  if  he  could  suggest  a  place  where  they  could  be 
kept  in  seclusion  until  they  could  be  sent  out  of  the 
country,  and  he  said:  "Send  them  to  me  and  I  will 
put  them  in  a  wing  of  my  hotel  where  no  one  shall  see 
them  and  they  shall  have  every  comfort."  He  kept 
them  for  weeks  at  his  own  expense,  refusing  to  take  a 
penny  of  the  money  we  raised  in  the  American  colony 
for  the  purpose  of  sending  them  to  America  and,  in- 
deed, contributed  to  this  fund  himself. 

(  107  ) 


It  was  curious  that  I,  who  had  always  instinctively 
avoided  Thomas  and  knew  less  of  him  than  was 
known  by  any  other  member  of  the  American  Club, 
should  have  the  most  trouble  about  his  unfortunate 
family.  They  had  a  villa  near  Dresden,  where  all  their 
possessions,  which  were  destined  to  be  sold,  had  been 
sealed  by  the  police.  One  day  I  went  there  with  Mrs. 
Thomas  and  a  policeman  for  some  formality,  and  as 
the  poor  woman  saw  a  photograph  in  a  bureau  drawer 
which  the  policeman  had  unlocked,  she  cried  out:  *'0h, 
I  want  that,  it  is  the  picture  of  my  dead  baby!"  The 
pohceman's  face  twitched;  he  turned  his  back  upon 
the  woman  and  marched  to  the  window,  saying  in  a 
fierce  undertone :"  Tell  the  poor  creature  to  take  it." 

As  my  practice  increased,  I  was  frequently  solicited 
to  visit  patients  who  could  not  conveniently  come  to 
Dresden.  The  first  visit  of  that  character  which  I 
made  was  to  Prince  L.  in  Bohemia.  To  me  it  was  an 
event,  for  it  was  my  first  view  of  a  great  landed  estate 
and  my  first  glimpse  of  the  stately  and  half  feudal  fife 
of  the  Austrian  aristocracy.  All  the  members  of  this 
family  with  its  extended  relationship  became  my  pa- 
tients and  I  finally  came  to  know  much  of  their  his- 
tory. My  host  had  been  a  general  in  the  Austrian 
army  and,  being  a  younger  son,  had  a  claim  upon  the 
family  estates  sufficient  for  his  needs  in  such  a  posi- 
tion. Upon  returning  from  a  campaign  after  many 

(  io8  ) 


years'  absence  from  his  own  people,  he  fell  in  love  with 
one  of  his  nieces,  who  had  grown  up  to  stately  woman- 
hood. After  long  negotiations,  they  received  permis- 
sion from  the  Pope  to  marry  and,  at  the  time  of  my 
visit,  they  had  nine  healthy  children,  the  last  being 
twins,  infants  in  arms,  who  were  displayed  with  great 
pride  upon  all  occasions.  When  the  prince  married,  he 
asked  his  elder  brother  to  give  him  a  small  estate, 
which  chanced  not  to  be  entailed  like  the  rest  of  the 
property,  in  exchange  for  his  appanage,  which,  as  it 
was  a  good  bargain  for  the  elder  brother,  was  readily 
assented  to.  But  money  was  needed  to  cultivate  the 
estate  and  so  little  confidence  was  felt  in  the  business 
ability  of  a  man  who  had  done  no  serious  work,  for  in 
those  days  not  much  was  expected  of  a  prince  and  a 
general,  he  had  to  pay  seventeen  per  cent  for  the 
money  required.  The  estate  was  laid  down  to  beet 
root  and  the  best  machinery  necessary  for  making 
sugar  in  these  early  days  of  the  sugar  industry  was 
purchased  and  set  up.  For  years  the  prince  was  his 
own  manager,  factor,  engineer,  etc.,  and  when  I  knew 
him,  he  had  not  only  an  income  of  five  hundred  thou- 
sand gulden  from  his  greatly  enlarged  estate  and  fac- 
tory, but  he  also  managed  the  family  estates  for  his 
elder  brother,  to  the  great  advantage  of  all  concerned. 
I  was  greatly  impressed  by  the  order  and  system 
and  evidence  of  good  management  prevailing  every- 

(  109  ) 


where.  Such  intensive  farming  I  had  never  dreamed 
of.  Every  part  of  the  estate  seemed  under  gardenhke 
cultivation.  Several  saddle  horses  were  always  stand- 
ing in  their  stalls  ready  for  instant  service.  Every  man 
and  woman  on  the  place  seemed  to  know  how  to  do 
their  work  perfectly  and  to  have  a  pride  in  doing  it 
well.  The  number  of  domestics  in  Hvery  and  uniform 
seemed  very  great,  but  their  service  was  so  excellent 
that  they  were  never  in  the  way.  I  soon  saw  that, 
under  the  lavish  hospitality  prevalent  among  the  set 
into  which  my  hosts  were  born,  a  large  establishment 
was  necessary.  The  princess  told  me  that  a  shooting 
party  was  expected  one  day  in  the  next  week  and  that 
they  would  certainly  kill  at  least  a  thousand  hares. 
And,  to  make  the  picture  perfect,  on  the  morning  of 
my  departure  I  saw  a  tall  gypsy  man  slinking  into  one 
of  the  stables. 

When  Austrian  patients  began  to  come  to  me,  as 
occurred  early  in  my  practice,  they  excited  my  inter- 
est in  a  greater  degree  than  was  the  case  with  others. 
Austria  had  been  a  powerful  empire  centuries  before 
anyone  had  dreamed  of  an  emancipated  and  united 
Germany,  and  the  Austrian  aristocracy  had  always 
had  great  wealth  and  influence.  My  patients  were 
chiefly  from  this  class  and  the  frankness  with  which 
they  spoke  of  all  things  human  and  divine  was  most 
entertaining.  They  all  knew  each  other  and  their  inter- 

(no) 


marriages  were  the  despair  of  the  ''Almanac  de  Gotha." 
I  remember  a  Russian  countess  who,  having  married 
an  Austrian  of  the  sacred  circle,  was  introduced  into 
Viennese  society.  She  told  me  that  she  was  over- 
whelmed at  the  great  number  of  Austrians  who  kissed 
her  and  called  her  "du";  this  familiarity  being  the 
correct  method  of  recognizing  their  relations  and  bid- 
ding her  welcome.  Their  relations  were  so  intimate 
and  they  spoke  to  and  of  each  other  with  such  amaz- 
ing freedom,  that  in  listening  to  them  one  felt  some- 
thing like  an  eavesdropper;  but  there  was  no  malice 
in  their  speech.  Indeed,  they  loved  to  tell  of  events 
which  were  creditable  to  their  caste  or  which  were 
simply  entertaining. 

I  remember  a  story  Count  Westphalen  told  me  of 
Count  Oswald  Thun,  a  member  of  a  family  I  knew, 
which  illustrates  a  tendency  to  seek  adventure,  which 
Austrian  noblemen  and  Austrian  archdukes  have 
abundantly  displayed.  Count  Thun  had  gone  to 
America  to  shoot  grizzly  bears  and,  when  the  sport 
palled  upon  him,  took  a  steamer  for  the  South  Ameri- 
can coast.  Then  he  conceived  the  idea  of  finding  the 
head  waters  of  the  Amazon  and  going  down  the 
mighty  stream  to  its  mouth.  He  said:  "Humboldt 
couldn't  do  it,  but  perhaps  I  can."  So  he  fitted  out  an 
expedition  and,  after  great  hardships,  was  finally  de- 
serted by  his  attendants,  but  undauntedly  went  on 

( III ) 


his  way  alone.  At  last  he  found  a  ship  which  was  gath- 
ering rubber  and  gave  the  skipper  his  costly  rifle  to 
take  him  to  Para,  where  he  finally  landed,  tattered 
and  absolutely  destitute,  except  for  his  letter  of  credit, 
which  he  had  concealed  in  the  crown  of  his  Panama 
hat.  He  went  at  once  to  the  Austrian  consulate,  told 
his  incredible  story  and  asked  for  money  on  his  letter 
of  credit;  but  the  consul  answered:  'Wo  haben  Siedas 
gestohlen?  Machen  Sie  dass  Sie  hinaus  kommen'' 

When  he  had  paced  the  inhospitable  streets  of  Para 
for  a  time,  he  concluded  to  ship  as  a  sailor  to  some 
Mexican  port,  Maximilian  (whom  he  knew)  being  at 
that  time  the  emperor  of  Mexico.  But  just  then  he 
heard,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  a  voice 
calling:  "I  say,  you  look  as  if  you  had  seen  better 
days!"  "So  I  have,"  he  answered,  crossing  to  the  un- 
mistakable Englishman  who  had  addressed  him,  and 
began  to  tell  his  story.  But  presently  the  Enghshman 
interrupted  him  and  said  he  was  the  British  consul  on 
his  way  home  and  invited  the  seeming  tramp  to  go 
with  him  to  his  house  and  dine  with  him,  adding  that 
his  wife  would  be  glad  to  make  his  acquaintance. 
"What,  in  this  garb ? "  Thun  answered, glancing  at  his 
stained  and  ragged  raiment.  "Certainly,  that  doesn't 
matter;  come  along." 

After  dinner  the  consul  said,  addressing  his  guest 
for  the  first  time  by  his  title,  "Count  Thun,  I  shall  be 

(    112) 


happy  to  advance  you  any  sum  you  require  on  your 
letter  of  credit."  Thun  asked  him  how  it  could  be 
that,  when  he  had  been  turned  into  the  street  by  his 
own  consul,  his  story  should  be  believed  by  a  stranger 
upon  whom  he  had  no  claim.  His  host  answered: 
"That  was  the  reason  I  asked  you  to  dinner.  I  knew 
if  you  were  not  a  gentleman,  I  should  detect  it  at 
table." 

Later  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  told  me  other  ad- 
ventures of  this  same  Count  Thun,  who  was  a  com- 
rade of  his  when  the  Duke  was  serving  in  the  Austrian 
army  after  the  war  of  1866.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
limit  to  his  strength  and  endurance,  no  man  of  his  set 
being  able  to  hold  his  own  with  him  in  any  physical 
contest,  and,  when  the  Duke  once  congratulated  him 
upon  some  signal  triumph, he  answered:  ''Gott  wets  was 
atis  mirhdtte  werden  konnen,  wenn  ich  nicht  als  Sieben- 
Monats-Kind  zur  Welt  kam^  ("God  only  knows  how  I 
might  have  turned  out,  had  I  not  started  life  as  a 
seven-months  child.") 

I  remember  another  incident  the  Duke  related  to 
me  to  illustrate  the  happy-go-lucky  discipline  which 
prevailed  in  an  Austrian  regiment  where  the  officers 
were  all  of  the  privileged  caste.  There  was  a  young 
Englishman  serving  in  the  same  regiment  with  the 
Duke  who  took  his  duties  perhaps  even  more  lightly 
than  the  others.  One  morning  the  Englishman  had 

( 113 ) 


been  ordered  to  carry  dispatches  to  a  distant  division, 
but  delayed  his  departure  that  he  might  join  the  mid- 
day dinner  at  a  hotel  where  all  the  officers-were  accus- 
tomed to  dine  together.  He  came  and  took  his  place 
at  table  as  usual.  The  colonel  looked  at  him  and  said: 
"It  would  be  well  that  the  colonel  should  not  see  you 
here";  whereupon  the  young  officer  at  once  retired 
and  hastened  to  do  his  duty.  It  was  perhaps  better 
than  a  court  martial,  but  the  Austrian  army  was  in  no 
condition  to  take  the  field  as  an  ally  of  France  against 
the  disciplined  German  army  in  1870,  as  the  whole 
Austrian  nation  ardently  desired. 

When  speaking  upon  this  subject,  the  Duke  told 
me  how  much  he  enjoyed  the  unconventional  ways  of 
Austrian  officers  not  of  his  set.  He  mentioned  with 
much  glee  a  Croatian  officer  whose  ability  had  carried 
him  far  and  who  used  to  say:  ''Erst ens  bin  ich  Croat y 
zweitens  bin  ich  Soldat,  drittens  bin  ich  'Democrat T 
("First  I'm  a  Croatian,  second  a  soldier,  and  third  a 
democrat.") 


1868         Chapter  Six         1873 

A  FTER  occupying  our  lodgings  for  a  few  months, 
-^  -^-we  moved  to  rooms  on  the  floor  above  and  subse- 
quently changed  to  what  was,  for  that  time,  an  ele- 
gant apartment  at  number  i  Walpurgis  Strasse.  This 
was  a  great  event,  for  we  furnished  it  and  your  dear 
mother  planned  and  executed  everything  herself. 
Here,  on  April  20,  1868,  Leonard  was  born.  Three 
weeks  afterwards,  the  mother  was  photographed  with 
the  child  in  her  arms  and  we  sent  a  copy  to  each  of  the 
grandmothers  in  America  with  our  usual  weekly  letter, 
but  making  no  mention  of  the  happy  event  until  a 
week  later,  which  no  previous  intimation  from  us  had 
led  them  to  expect.  Grandmamma  Upton  knewatonce 
that  this  was  Clara's  child,  but  Grandmamma  Jenkins 
wrote  she  hoped  "Clara  will  not  always  be  obliged 
to  borrow  her  neighbours'  jewels."  A  jewel  the  child 
surely  was.  From  the  moment  of  his  birth,  he  was  not 
simply  cheerful,  he  was  merry.  When  old  enough  to 
be  taken  from  the  pillow  upon  which  German  nurses 
insisted  upon  keeping  new-born  children  in  those  days, 
and  could  be  carried  about  the  house  in  arms  and  be 
permitted  to  look  the  world  in  the  face,  he  was  over- 
flowing with  merriment,  a  happy  condition  which  he 
has  ever  since  maintained.  He  was  especially  amused 

(115) 


at  the  black  handles  with  which  the  swinging  windows 
were  supplied,  going  into  convulsions  of  laughter  over 
them.  Perhaps  he  thought,  in  combination  with  the 
white  window  frames  they  formed  the  Prussian  colours, 
at  which,  however,  no  one  laughs  but  many  weep 
to-day. 

After  being  fairly  settled  in  our  new  apartment,  we 
began  to  save  money  for  buying  a  horse.  I  greatly  felt 
the  need  of  physical  relaxation,  for  I  was  working  long 
hours  and  at  high  pressure  and  I  found  riding  such 
screws  as  could  be  hired  from  a  riding  school  unsatis- 
fying. We  put  into  a  box,  which  we  called  the  horse- 
box, such  money  as  we  could  spare,  until  at  last  we 
had  sufficient  for  our  purpose;  and  just  then  I  found  a 
beautiful  stallion,  with  more  than  a  dash  of  Arab 
blood,  which  I  bought  immediately  and  named  "Box,'* 
that  the  memory  of  the  fun  we  had  had  in  saving 
money  for  him  might  not  perish.  Of  all  the  good 
horses  I  have  ever  since  owned.  Box  was  the  dearest 
to  us.  His  previous  owner  had  mistaken  his  high  spirit 
for  viciousness  and  had  had  various  ineffectual  con- 
tests with  him,  which  had  given  the  horse  a  bad  repu- 
tation and  therefore  brought  him  within  the  price  I 
could  afford.  I  had  only  one  battle  with  him,  and  that 
was  on  account  of  a  pile  of  stones  just  outside  the 
Grosser  Garten,  of  which  he  pretended  to  be  afraid 
and  refused  to  pass.  By  getting  his  head  down  so  he 

(  ii6) 


could  not  rear,  I  at  last  backed  him  over  those  stones 
and  then  rode  him  back  and  forth  around  them,  until 
he  was  completely  subdued  to  my  will,  and  from  that 
moment  he  loyally  accepted  me  for  his  master  and  re- 
joiced to  serve  me.  He  knew  my  every  mood.  If  I  were 
nervous  and  excited,  he  would  scarcely  wait  for  me  to 
put  my  foot  in  the  stirrup  and  would  spring  about  and 
start  off  at  high  speed,  in  perfect  sympathy  with  my 
feeling.  If  I  were  weary,  he  would  move  only  sedately 
and  gently,  and  if  I  dismounted  to  stroll  along  a  coun- 
try lane,  he  would  follow  me,  cropping  the  grass,  at 
some  distance,  but  if  I  turned  and  called  to  him,  he 
would  come  to  me  at  once.  One  morning  as  I  came 
down  for  an  early  ride,  I  found  the  horse,  in  compli- 
ance with  my  mood,  already  prancing  with  the  joy  of 
motion.  It  happened  that  just  after  my  mounting, 
Addah  came  up  with  Leonard  in  her  arms  and  the 
child  held  out  his  hands  to  be  taken  up.  As  I  took  the 
boy.  Box  instantly  became  perfectly  docile  and  walked 
quietly  up  and  down  until  I  gave  her  charge  back  to 
the  nurse,  when  at  once  the  horse  began  to  caper  and 
shy  and  pretend  to  want  to  run  away.  But  he  would 
play  no  tricks  whatever  when  your  mother  rode  or 
drove  him,  but  obeyed  every  touch  of  her  hand  or 
tone  of  her  voice. 

He  had  a  way  of  begging  for  sugar  by  pawing  with 
his  right  forefoot  and  the  groom  knew  of  my  coming 

( 117) 


some  time  before  I  reached  the  stable  by  his  beginning 
to  paw  and  look  around  for  me.  When,  after  long  years 
of  companionship,  I  was  called  to  the  stable,  to  find 
him  lying  on  his  left  side,  dying  from  a  fractured 
thigh,  he  pawed  with  his  right  forefoot  in  the  air  and 
lifted  his  head  in  greeting.  The  two  portraits  I  have  of 
this  dear  creature  are  both  by  Friedrich,  a  celebrated 
Dresden  painter  of  horses  of  this  time. 

For  many  years  we  led  such  a  busy  life  that  we 
could  not  cultivate  our  acquaintance  with  noted  Ger- 
man artists  whom  we  knew,  except  here  and  there. 
We  were  able  to  keep  in  touch  with  Professor  Hiibner, 
Director  of  the  Dresdner  Gallery,  who  was  our  neigh- 
bour in  town  and  in  Loschwitz,  and  with  a  few  others 
who  came  of  themselves  into  our  circle.  I  much  prize 
a  beautiful  pencil  sketch,  which  Professor  Hiibner 
once  gave  me,  of  one  of  his  well-known  pictures.  It 
represents  Frederick  the  Great  in  the  garden  of  Sans 
Souci,  in  his  old  age,  with  a  greyhound  at  his  feet 
and  the  historic  windmill  in  the  distance.  After  Pro- 
fessor Hiibner's  death,  his  wife  presented  us  with  a 
portrait  of  her  husband,  which  had  been  painted  by 
George  Peixotto,  one  of  the  master's  admiring  pupils. 

Among  our  friends  was  also  the  beloved  Hoffmann, 
known  widely,  and  especially  in  America  through  his 
two  famous  pictures  in  the  Dresdner  Gallery:  "The 
Woman  Taken  in  Adultery"  and  "Christ  in  the  Tem- 

(  n8) 


pie."  Other  painters  of  religious  subjects  have  been 
inspired  with  deep  reverence  for  their  theme,  but 
Hoffmann's  work  reveals  his  own  saintly  character. 
He  was,  however,  a  mortal  man,  for  he  was  much 
shocked  and  downright  indignant  to  hear  that  an 
American  had  copied  his  picture  of  Christ  in  the  Tem- 
ple for  a  memorial  window  in  an  American  church, 
without  even  asking  his  permission  or  reflecting  that 
a  picture  designed  for  canvas  could  not  be  properly 
rendered  in  glass. 

In  1869  Henry  Bacon  and  his  charming  wife  came 
from  Paris  to  spend  some  time  in  Dresden.  He  was  a 
talented  young  American  genre  painter,  educated  in 
Paris  and  full  of  fresh  delight  in  the  charm  of  Euro- 
pean life  and  art.  Germany  had  not  then  been  Prus- 
sianized. Each  State  had  its  own  standard  of  art,  and 
wild  impressionists,  realists  and  futurists  had  not 
begun  to  bolshevize  German  classical  traditions. 

We  became  good  friends  and  the  Bacons  were  much 
at  our  house.  We  were  amused  at  their  quandary  in 
trying  to  give  their  infant  son  the  family  name  of  his 
mother.  They  could  not,  however,  venture  to  call  him 
Henry  Lord  Bacon,  nor  yet  Lord  Henry  Bacon,  and 
so  the  christening  was  postponed  for  a  long  time  and 
we  never  knew  their  final  decision. 

I  learned  that  they  had  fled  to  London  during  the 
war  of  1870  and  were  in  straitened  circumstances. 

( 119) 


So  I  ventured  to  send  them  some  money  in  memory  of 
our  friendship.  Long  afterward  Bacon  sent  me  a 
charming  httle  picture  of  "  The  First  Extravagance," 
as  he  called  his  painting  of  a  young  couple  buying  a 
cradle  in  an  old  shop  in  Nuremberg. 

These  early  years  were  full  of  interest  and  crowded 
with  work.  I  was  becoming  seasoned  to  the  fatigue 
and  nervous  strain  of  my  practice  and  growing  in 
facility  for  daily  purposes  and  in  comprehension  of 
the  future  possibilities  of  my  growing  reputation. 
We  kept  in  close  touch  with  the  Abbots,  going  fre- 
quently to  see  them  in  Berlin  and  having  visits  from 
them  in  return.  From  Abbot  I  got  my  first  impres- 
sions regarding  European  politics.  Mr.  Fay,  his  father- 
in-law,  was  a  storehouse  of  information,  through  the 
experiences  of  his  long  diplomatic  career,  in  which  he 
had  known  many  of  the  men  prominent  in  public  life. 
Some  of  his  minor  experiences  were  curious.  At  one 
time,  before  the  American  Civil  War,  when  he  was 
first  secretary  of  the  American  legation  in  Berlin,  he 
had  under  his  care  two  American  Ministers,  both 
newly  appointed,  one  to  Berlin  and  one  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, each  of  whom  was  suffering  from  delirium  tre- 
mens. He  delayed  the  time  of  audience  for  the  purpose 
of  presenting  his  new  chief  as  long  as  possible  and, 
when  the  inevitable  hour  arrived,  managed  to  carry 
upon  some  pretence  a  voluminous  cloak  over  his  arm 

(   I20  ) 


to  throw  about  the  Minister  should  he  become  violent. 
Poor  Mr.  Fay's  nerves  suffered  for  years  afterwards 
from  the  strain  of  those  anxious  weeks. 

He  once  told  me  the  story  of  the  Englishman  who 
was  killed  by  the  bears  of  Berne.  It  occurred  during 
the  time  when  Mr.  Fay  was  American  Minister  to 
Switzerland.  A  pleasant  young  Englishman,  who  was 
a  great  favourite  in  society  in  Berne,  became  obsessed 
with  the  conviction  that  he  was  to  die  upon  a  certain 
day.  His  friends  tried  to  laugh  him  out  of  this  notion, 
but  to  no  avail.  So  a  dinner  was  given  him  on  the 
evening  of  that  day  and  every  effort  was  made  to 
cheer  him  up.  His  hosts  had  set  the  clock  forward  for 
an  hour  and  when,  at  eleven  o'clock,  it  struck  twelve, 
the  health  of  the  guest  was  jubilantly  drunk.  When 
the  party  broke  up,  the  guest  walked  towards  the 
hotel  with  a  fellow  countryman.  So  elated  was  he  that, 
as  he  passed  the  bear  pit,  which  was  not  then  pro- 
tected as  it  has  been  since  this  tragic  event,  he  jumped 
upon  the  broad  wall  of  the  den  and  began  to  dance 
along  to  the  end,  when  he  lost  his  balance  and  fell  into 
the  pit.  Even  then  he  might  not  have  been  attacked 
by  the  bears,  had  he  not,  in  his  terror,  prodded  at 
them  with  his  umbrella.  Mr.  Fay  was  awakened  by 
the  shouts  of  the  poor  victim's  friends,  who  ran  into 
the  town  calling  for  help. 

I  had  come  abroad  after  the  brilliant  success  of 

(    121    ) 


Prussia  in  the  war  with  Austria.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
it  was  a  victory  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  over  spir- 
itual and  physical  autocracy  and  to  mark  a  distinct 
stage  in  the  progress  of  mankind.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  that  the  expulsion  of  Austria  from  Germany 
was  a  direct  gain.  Like  all  the  rest  of  the  neutral 
world,  I  enjoyed  the  marvellous  achievement  of  the 
smaller  power,  who,  in  a  campaign  of  three  weeks,  had 
overthrown  Austria  and  brought  all  Germany  to  her 
feet;  but  I  was  far  too  young  and  inexperienced  to 
understand  what  this  deed  of  arms  actually  meant. 

It  was  enough  for  me  to  share  in  the  prosperity 
which  began  to  increase  everywhere  after  the  political 
settlement,  to  enjoy  the  rapid  succession  of  agreeable 
events  and  to  profit  from  and  be  amused  by  acquaint- 
ance with  my  polyglot  clientele.  Among  my  patients 
were  representatives  of  families  famous  in  European 
history  and  many  others  who  wanted  to  be.  In  general 
they  all  treated  me  with  great  consideration,  partly 
because  I  was  necessary  to  them,  and  partly  because  I 
was  an  American,  for  it  was  the  thing  to  admire  every- 
thing American  after  our  country  had  issued  from  the 
long  Civil  War  so  triumphantly  and  was  showing  such 
an  extraordinary  recuperative  power,  to  the  great  ad- 
vantage of  all  who  held  American  securities. 

One  day  there  came  to  me  an  imposing  lady  from 
Silesia  and,  upon  giving  her  an  appointment,  I  was 

(   122  ) 


obliged  to  ask  her  to  repeat  her  name.  "Mun- 
chausen" she  said,  "Munchausen!  Don't  you  know 
the  man  who  told  so  many  Hes  ?"* 

In  later  years,  when  other  members  of  this  re- 
nowned and  kindly  and  interesting  family  had  become 
my  patients,  one  of  them  actually  told  me  once,  when 
speaking  of  pistol  shooting,  that  upon  his  wedding 
journey  he  went  into  a  shooting  gallery  in  Frankfort 
with  some  friends  and  shot  twice  at  the  target.  His 
first  shot  was  in  the  very  center  of  the  bull's-eye,  and 
the  second  was  driven  into  the  first  so  that  they  could 
not  be  separated.  Only  lately  he  had  been  to  that 
same  gallery  and  the  proprietor  showed  him,  as  one  of 
the  relics  of  the  place,  the  two  united  bullets  which  "a 
gentleman  from  Silesia"  had  fired  so  many  years  ago. 

There  was  much  curiosity  about  America  and  I  was 
often  detained  some  time  after  finishing  my  sitting 
with  some  more  or  less  serious-minded  patient  to 
answer  questions  which  would  have  puzzled  far  wiser 
heads  than  mine.  It  occasionally  happened  that  I  was 
able  to  impart  some  real  information  or  to  prevent 
some  evident  misunderstanding  of  political  or  social 
conditions  in  America,  but  there  were  some  questions 
impossible  to  answer. 

I  was  once  asked  to  go  to  Prague  to  see  some  of  my 

*This  name  is  famous  in  literary  history  on  account  of  the  amusingly 
mendacious  stories  known  as  "The  Adventures  of  Baron  Munchausen. 

(    123    ) 


patients  who  could  not  come  to  Dresden  just  then, 
and,  for  a  few  days,  I  saw  in  one  of  the  old  palaces  a 
number  of  members  of  the  Bohemian  aristocracy,  who 
swarmed  to  take  advantage  of  my  visit.  It  was  the 
beginning  of  a  professional  connection  of  great  value 
and  interest,  many  of  the  patients  of  that  time  re- 
maining devotedly  attached  to  me  until  I  quite  gave 
up  practice  and  passed  out  of  their  path. 

I  had  with  me  upon  this  visit  my  black  servant, 
Joseph,  who  was  a  fine,  tall  negro  and  an  excellent 
valet,  cook  and  coachman,  in  any  of  which  capacities 
he  might  have  been  indispensable,  except  for  a  cir- 
cumstance which  finally  made  it  necessary  for  me  to 
part  with  him.  All  the  maid  servants  fell  in  love  with 
him  and  the  first  connected  German  sentence  he 
learned  was:  "'Frdulein^  borgen  Sie  mir  einen  'Thaler'' 
("Young  lady,  please  lend  me  a  dollar.")  One  after- 
noon, as  I  was  about  returning  to  my  hotel,  one  of  the 
lovely  young  princesses  of  the  family  I  had  been 
treating  took  me  aside  and  said  diffidently  that  she 
was  dying  to  ask  me  a  question.  I  assured  her  it  would 
give  me  much  pleasure  to  answer  it  if  possible.  She 
then  said  that  I  was  an  American  and  white,  and  my 
servant  was  an  American  and  black,  and  she  didn't 
see  how  that  could  be  and  wanted  me  to  explain. 

Joseph  was  a  character.  He  had  been  a  cook  on  a 
ship  and  had  been  stranded  at  Constantinople.  From 

( 124) 


there  he  made  his  way  overland  to  Dresden,  looking 
for  a  situation,  and  I  engaged  him  at  once  and  kept 
him  for  two  years,  and  but  for  the  little  weakness 
above  referred  to,  I  should  have  kept  him  always,  for 
he  became  much  attached  to  the  family.  One  day  I 
had  occasion  to  reprove  him  for  quarrelling  with  one 
of  the  other  servants  and  he  excused  himself  by  saying 
he  had  been  called  a  schwarzer  Teufel  ("black  devil"). 
Then  I  told  him  he  must  learn  to  control  his  feelings 
if  he  were  abused,  to  come  to  me  at  once  and  I  would 
protect  him.  Now  Joseph  barely  knew  his  letters  and 
your  mother  tried  diligently  to  teach  him  to  read  and 
write.  One  day  shortly  after  my  reproof,  he  brought 
her  his  house  accounts  and  she  went  over  them  pa- 
tiently. At  last  she  came  to  one  item,  "EDCT."  She 
puzzled  over  it  for  a  time  and  then  said:  "I  don't 
know  what  that  is,  Joseph." 

"Them's  sardines,  marm." 

She  smiled  gently  and  said:  "That's  not  the  way  to 
spell  it;  I  will  show  you  how."  And  taking  a  pencil, 
she  made  a  large  S,  when  Joseph  cried:  "Yes,  marm,  I 
thought  of  beginning  it  with  an  S  too,  marm,  but  I 
controlled  my  feelin's." 

There  were  many  Europeans  in  my  practice  who 
had  considerable  knowledge  of  America,  and  some  of 
them,  notably  Russians  and  Germans  of  the  ruling 
caste,  were  anxious  to  be  on  good  terms  with  America. 

( 125) 


It  was  my  rule  never  to  presume  upon  my  professional 
relations  with  my  patients.  Whatever  friendly  inter- 
est was  shown  to  me,  I  regarded  as  being  professional 
and  not  personal,  and  this  attitude  came  to  be  under- 
stood and  appreciated.  I  also  gained  a  reputation  for 
discretion  which  was  of  great  importance.  It  was  not 
uncommon  among  professional  men  in  Germany  to  be 
willing  to  have  it  known  that  they  were  visited  by  or 
called  to  distinguished  patients.  If  royalty  or  an  am- 
bassador, or  any  especially  important  patient  came 
to  see  me,  I  arranged,  whenever  possible,  to  have  him 
shown  directly  into  my  operating  room,  or  into  a  pri- 
vate waiting-room,  and  not  to  be  exposed  to  seeing 
or  being  seen  by  the  people  in  the  general  reception 
room.  I  cautioned  my  assistants  and  employes  not  to 
talk  about  the  important  personages  who  came  to  me, 
and  soon  made  my  patients  understand  that  they 
could  come  to  me  in  perfect  confidence.  Dresden  has 
always  had  a  reputation  for  gossip  and  there  was 
great  lack  of  prudence,  even  among  high-class  profes- 
sional men,  in  speaking  of  their  clientele.  I  was  often 
asked  what  I  had  done  for  such  and  such  a  patient, 
sometimes  even  by  members  of  the  same  family,  and 
invariably  replied  that,  to  an  American  doctor,  the 
confidence  of  his  patient  was  sacred.  One  day  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Saxon  royal  family  asked  me  an  indiscreet 
question  about  the  King.  I  replied:  *'If  the  King  were 

( 126) 


to  ask  me  the  same  question  about  your  Royal  High- 
ness, I  should  also  decline  to  answer."  She  blushed 
deeply  but,  after  a  few  minutes  she  thanked  me  and 
said  I  was  perfectly  correct,  for  she  wouldn't  like 
others  to  know  about  her  own  case.  Thus  it  happened 
that  I  came  to  enjoy  most  agreeable  relationship  with 
my  extended  clientele,  many  of  whom  asked  my  ad- 
vice in  various  delicate  private  affairs  and  spoke  to 
me  freely  about  pubhc  events  in  which  they  were 
interested. 

I  mention  these  things  that  you  may  understand 
that  many  of  my  convictions  with  which  you  may  be 
acquainted  are  not  quite  unintelligently  founded,  al- 
though I  may  not  have  been  always  able  to  give  you 
all  my  reasons. 

In  the  early  seventies  Charles  Eliot  Norton  and 
his  delightful  wife  were  for  some  time  in  Dresden. 
Norton  was  fresh  from  visiting  England  and,  among 
many  other  eminent  men  of  letters  with  whom  he  there 
formed  friendships,  was  Edward  FitzGerald,  with 
whose  famous  version  of  "The  Rubaiyat"  of  Omar 
Khayyam  I  had  recently  become  acquainted.  I  did 
not  then  know  the  personal  relations  between  Norton 
and  FitzGerald,  but  I  was  much  pleased  to  find  the 
Nortons  so  familiar  with  a  work  whose  melodious 
verse  and  Anglicized  oriental  thought  had  greatly 
taken  my  fancy.  There  were  a  few  copies  of  the  second 

(  127  ) 


edition  of  the  "Large  Infidel"  packed  up  with  our 
books  at  Thorwald  and  I  hope  they  will  have  survived 
the  war,  together  with  all  our  other  treasures  left 
there.  In  one  or  more  of  these  books  I  have  interpo- 
lated a  few  stanzas  which  did  not  appear  in  later 
editions. 

Norton  came  with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  King 
John  fromTicknor,  who  had  known  the  King  as  Prince 
John  before  he  came  to  the  throne  by  the  tragic  death 
of  his  brother.  Prince  John  had  been  educated  largely 
in  Italy,  for  the  royal  family  was  devotedly  Roman 
Catholic.  He  was  a  scholarly  man  of  intellectual  tastes 
and  was  known  in  German  literature  as  a  translator  of 
Dante.  Since  Norton,  with  James  Russell  Lowell,  had 
gone  over  with  their  friend  Longfellow  every  line  of 
Longfellow's  translation  of  "The  Divine  Comedy,"  it 
was  natural  that  the  King  should  welcome  Norton  and 
find  pleasure  in  his  society. 

One  day  I  asked  Norton,  knowing  that  he  had  re- 
cently dined  with  the  King,  if  his  Majesty  had  shown 
him  his  translation  and  what  he  thought  of  it.  He 
quickly  answered:  "It  is  beautiful,  splendid,  magnifi- 
cent— for  a  King !" 

On  November  17,  1871,  Norton  wrote  from  Dres- 
den, in  a  private  letter  only  recently  pubhshed : "  The 
German — nothing  that  has  not  material  value  pleases 
him.  Ideas  he  despises;  facts  are  his  treasure." 

(  128  ) 


After  I  had  become  convinced  that  I  had  gained  a 
solid  practice,  capable  of  great  extension,  I  wrote  to 
your  Grandfather  Upton  and  your  Uncle  George  to 
say  that,  if  George  cared  to  study  dentistry,  I  could 
give  him  an  opening.  This  met  with  the  family  ap- 
proval, and  accordingly  George  studied  dentistry  and 
graduated  in  1870,  and  his  parents  came  over  with 
him,  landing  in  England  just  as  the  war  with  France 
broke  out. 

Those  were  days  of  great  excitement.  Our  sym- 
pathies were  wholly  with  Germany.  We  believed,  as 
indeed  did  nearly  all  the  world,  that  the  war  was  wan- 
tonly provoked  by  the  Emperor  of  the  French,  but 
we  did  not  fear  that  there  was  to  be  another  conquest 
of  Germany  Hke  that  achieved  by  the  first  Napoleon. 
We  had  been  prodigiously  impressed  by  the  extension 
of  the  Prussian  military  system  over  all  Germany  and 
rejoiced  to  see  that  the  German  people  were,  in  that 
moment  of  peril,  completely  united.  There  was  no 
wild  enthusiasm  for  war,  but  a  solemn  consecration  to 
the  cause  of  the  nation  and  a  profound  conviction  of 
its  justice. 

The  splendid  patriotic  songs  of  the  war  of  Libera- 
tion, more  than  half  a  century  ago,  were  revived,  and 
supplemented  by  "Die  Wacht  am  Rhein."  In  a  sin- 
cerely religious  spirit,  the  whole  nation  turned  towards 
the  God  of  their  fathers.  The  churches  were  crowded; 

(  129  ) 


even  secular  public  assemblies  sang  hymns  and,  with 
a  swiftness  which  astonished  the  world,  the  nation  in 
arms  began  a  glorious  campaign,  which  ended  in  six 
months  with  the  greatest  of  military  triumphs  and  the 
establishment  of  the  German  Empire. 

In  the  first  days  of  mobilizing,  I  was  riding  through 
a  small  village.  Some  young  soldiers  were  being  mar- 
shalled under  the  branches  of  some  great  trees.  An 
officer  called  to  them  to  group  themselves  about  him 
and  in  a  few  quiet  words  he  told  them  that,  in  this 
coming  war,  there  must  be  no  feeling  of  distance  be- 
tween the  soldiers  and  their  officers,  but  that  they 
must  remember  that  they  were  all  brothers,  equally 
ready  in  life  and  death  to  serve  their  dear  Fatherland. 

The  railroads  were  immediately  taken  for  military 
purposes.  Hearing  rumours  of  Abbot  being  in  trouble, 
I  went  up  to  Berlin  with  Consul  Irish  on  the  last  train 
which  left  Dresden  before  general  mobilization.  In  the 
early  morning  I  went  to  Abbot's  house  to  make  in- 
quiries and  his  attached  old  servant,  Karl,  let  me  in. 
I  saw  he  was  greatly  affected  and  asked  the  reason. 
But  he  could  not  tell  me  and  begged  me  only  to  come 
in,  while  he  called  his  master.  Soon  Abbot  appeared, 
half-dressed,  but  almost  more  gay  than  ever,  and  in 
response  to  my  inquiries  said:  "Nothing  is  the  matter, 
I'm  only  ruined,  that's  all.  But  I  don't  mind,  if  only 
that  scoundrel  Louis  Napoleon  gets  well  thrashed ! " 

(  130  ) 


Then  the  whole  story  came  out.  After  our  war  was 
over,  Abbot  had  bulled  American  securities  on  the 
Berlin  market,  not  to  make  money,  but  from  motives 
of  patriotism.  It  seemed  a  safe  game  to  play,  as  he 
subsequently  thought,  and  so  he  kept  it  up.  When  the 
war  broke  out,  he  was  on  the  Rhine  and  could  not  get 
back  immediately,  and,  in  the  meantime,  during  the 
panic  on  the  Berlin  Bourse,  the  bankers  through  whom 
he  was  doing  business  sold  him  out  and  he  had  not 
only  lost  everything,  but  was  nominally  in  debt  for 
some  two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  He  had  learned 
this  only  two  days  before  and  was  at  that  moment 
without  money  enough  to  pay  for  his  family  dinner. 

I  was  much  shocked  and  distressed  and  offered  at 
once  to  share  all  I  had  with  him,  but  he  said:  "No, 
I  couldn't  think  of  depriving  Dumont  of  the  pleasure 
of  helping  me;  he  now  keeps  my  pot  boihng." 

Dr.  Dumont  was  Dr.  Abbot's  partner.  They  were 
fellow  students  and  graduated  in  the  same  class  at 
Baltimore.  Dumont,  who  was  a  Belgian,  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  his  own  country,  and  so  Abbot  invited  him  to 
come  to  Berlin  and  share  his  prosperity.  As  a  result  of 
the  panic,  Dumont  had  lost  half  of  his  savings  and, 
to  a  Belgian,  with  the  thrifty  habits  of  those  days, 
that  was  a  great  calamity;  but  when  I  condoled  with 
him,  he  said  that  the  pain  of  his  loss  was  nothing 
compared  with  the  pleasure  he  had  in  being  of  service 

( 131 ) 


to  Abbot,  who  had  done  so  much  for  him.  I  believe 
Karl  also  begged  Abbot  to  let  him  stay  with  the  fam- 
ily without  wages,  and  indeed  everybody  was  anxious 
to  be  helpful  and  considerate  to  Abbot,  for  everyone 
who  knew  him  admired  and  loved  him.  But  he  quickly 
had  an  income  from  his  practice  again  and  after  the 
six  months  war  was  over,  he  shared  in  the  great  pros- 
perity which  came  so  suddenly  to  the  whole  country. 
For  three  years  before  the  war,  I  saw  much  of  the 
Saxon  minister  of  war.  General  von  Fabrice.  He  and 
his  family  were  my  patients.  He  often  came  with  his 
daughter,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached  and  with 
whom  he  frequently  rode  in  the  Grosser  Garten, 
though  it  was  unusual  in  those  days  for  ladies  to  ride 
and,  during  all  the  time  I  was  operating  for  her,  he 
would  sit  close  by  reading  a  book  or  engaging  in  occa- 
sional conversation.  He  was  a  fine  soldierly  figure,  an 
accomphshed  courtier  and  also  a  man  of  much  ability. 
He  reorganized  the  Saxon  army  and  did  great  service 
in  the  field  and  was  finally  military  Commandant  at 
Versailles.  There  is  a  fine  bronze  statue  of  him  in  the 
Albertstadt,  the  military  quarter  of  Dresden,  which 
I  believe  he  planned  and  which  was  built,  I  also  be- 
lieve, with  money  from  the  French  indemnity,  of 
which,  by  the  way,  a  certain  portion  was  allotted  to 
Fabrice  in  acknowledgement  of  his  distinguished 
services. 

(  132  ) 


I  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  something  of  his  views 
upon  many  subjects.  He  was  much  interested  at  one 
time  regarding  a  purposed  change  in  saddles  for  the 
cavalry,  and  I  told  him  something  of  the  advantages 
of  the  so-called  McClellan  saddle,  which  was  in  use 
in  the  American  army.  I  ordered  two  such  saddles 
sent  over  to  me  and,  when  they  arrived,  wrote  a  short 
paper  upon  their  advantages  and  presented  them  to 
the  war  ministry.  Fabrice  had  them  carefully  tested 
and  told  me  they  were  far  and  away  superior  to  any 
European  saddle  and  that  he  would  have  adopted 
them,  except  for  their  high  cost,  which  was  prohibi- 
tory. I  think,  however,  that  a  study  of  these  saddles, 
which  rest  upon  the  dorsal  muscles  and  are  so  well 
adapted  in  other  ways  to  the  anatomy  of  the  horse, 
may  have  had  some  slight  influence  upon  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  Hungarian  saddle  which  was  afterwards 
adopted. 

Certainly,  as  far  as  my  observation  went,  the  Ger- 
man military  authorities  found  nothing  too  insignifi- 
cant for  careful  consideration.  I  was  once  the  only 
civihan  guest  at  a  dinner  given  by  General  von  Funke, 
a  famous  artillerist  who  was  Commandant  of  Dres- 
den. After  dinner,  there  was  much  excited  technical 
debate,  which  I  could  not  understand.  At  last  the 
host  explained  that,  for  a  long  time,  tests  had  been 
made  to  find  the  best  possible  gaiter  button,  and  that 

(  133  ) 


finally  the  inquiry  had  narrowed  into  the  respective 
merits  of  two  buttons.  There  were  two  parties,  each 
of  which  warmly  advocated  the  button  it  preferred, 
but  the  question  would  be  settled  by  some  fresh  ex- 
periments, which  were  soon  to  be  completed. 

Upon  another  occasion  your  mother  and  I  were  call- 
ing upon  Frau  von  Funke,  the  beautiful  American 
wife  of  the  General,  when  she  excused  her  husband 
for  not  being  able  to  see  us,  because  he  had  received 
orders  to  write  a  paper  upon  the  military  use  of  a 
river  in  Africa.  For  three  days  and  nights  he  had  been 
secluded  in  his  room,  during  which  time  even  his  wife 
had  not  seen  him,  but  that  evening  his  work  must  be 
finished  and  would  be  taken  by  his  orderly  on  a  cer- 
tain train  to  Berlin,  to  be  delivered  at  a  certain  hour 
to  the  member  of  the  General  Staff"  appointed  to 
receive  it.  General  von  Funke  afterwards  told  me 
that  this  same  task  was  appointed  to  a  number  of 
men  in  similar  positions  in  the  army  throughout  Ger- 
many, and  the  replies  were  examined  and  commented 
upon  and  the  record  of  each  of  the  men  was  affected 
by  the  quality  and  character  of  his  paper. 

It  was  with  such  training  as  this  that  the  German 
army  marched  to  its  immortal  victory.  Every  day 
brought  some  stirring  news  and  the  whole  nation  Hved 
in  a  state  of  spiritual  exaltation.  The  Americans  then 
living  in  Dresden  were  brought  very  close  to  each 

( 134) 


other  in  those  times.  The  EngUsh  residents  were  far 
more  excited  than  the  Americans.  There  was  at  that 
time  a  Scotch  Presbyterian  church,  which  we  attended 
and  I  was  a  member  of  the  committee.  On  the  Sunday- 
morning  after  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  the  minister 
told  me  he  must  depart  at  once,  lest  he  should  not  be 
able  to  reach  his  home  later.  I  told  him  he  was  like  a 
soldier  at  his  post;  if  he  chose  to  desert  it,  that  was  a 
matter  for  himself  alone.  But  he  left  that  same  evening. 

There  chanced  to  be  one  of  our  old  friends,  an 
American  clergyman,  Mr.  Cummings,  just  then  in 
Dresden.  We  invited  him  to  hold  a  morning  service, 
for  our  little  community,  which  he  did  all  through  the 
war,  and  it  was  a  source  of  great  comfort  to  us. 

Among  the  English  residents,  there  were  some  who 
retained  the  traditions  of  the  Napoleonic  era  and  who 
feared  the  country  would  be  overrun  by  the  French. 
Some  of  them  hastened  off  through  Austria  and  never 
halted  until  they  were  under  the  protection  of  the 
guns  of  Gibraltar.  It  was  also  a  great  comfort  that 
your  mother's  family  were  with  us.  Your  Uncle 
George  began  to  practise  with  me  and  even  in  this 
stirring  war  time  the  practice  increased. 

When  the  first  French  prisoners  were  taken,  some 
twenty  thousand  were  sent  to  Dresden.  They  arrived 
in  wretched  condition,  but  were  soon  made  comfort- 
able. In  Saxony  there  was  much  sympathy  with  the 

( 135 ) 


French,  largely  on  account  of  the  policy  of  the  first 
Napoleon,  who  was  long  in  alliance  with  Saxony.  The 
captured  French  officers  were  soon  put  on  parole. 
They  were  completely  destitute,  but  many  kindly 
Saxons  advanced  them  money  to  be  repaid  after  the 
war  and  showed  them  in  many  ways  much  kindness. 
I  knew  one  lady  who  sent  word  to  the  senior  French 
general  that  every  day  at  a  certain  hour  there  would 
be  places  at  her  table  for  sixteen  French  gentlemen, 
who  she  hoped  would  do  her  the  honour  of  dining 
with  her.  Some  of  the  French  officers  came  to  me  as 
patients  and  they  told  me  that  they  had  never  before 
known  what  magnanimity  meant  and  assured  me 
if  they  had  been  victorious,  they  would  not  have 
thought  of  treating  their  enemies  so  kindly. 

One  day  after  the  war  was  over  and  some  prisoners 
were  already  being  sent  home,  I  received  some  money 
from  Dumont,  to  whom  it  had  been  sent  through 
England  and  Belgium  by  the  mother  of  one  of  the 
French  soldiers  with  messages  from  home.  I  drove  out 
to  the  prison  camp  and  told  the  corporal  of  the  guard 
upon  what  errand  I  had  come. 

"Oh,"  he  cried,  "what  a  pity  you  did  not  come  yes- 
terday; the  poor  fellow  left  only  last  night  for  home." 

Then  he  called  out  to  his  comrades  and  said: 

"The  gentleman  came  to  bring  So-and-So  some 
money  and  a  message  from  his  old  mother  in  the  south 

( '36) 


of  France  and  now  the  poor  fellow  will  get  no  news 
until  he  reaches  home.  Isn't  that  a  pity!" 

I  have  seen  a  wounded  German  soldier  in  a  hospital 
dividing  some  delicacies  which  had  been  sent  him  as 
impartially  between  a  Frenchman  on  one  side  and  a 
Turco  on  the  other  as  if  they  had  been  his  own  com- 
rades. 

Abbot,  Paetsch  and  I  once  made  a  journey  to  Bor- 
deaux together.  It  was  in  early  summer  and  we  went 
by  way  of  Metz,  where  Lieutenant  von  Piakowski,  an 
old  friend  of  Abbot,  kindly  acted  as  cicerone.  It  was 
during  the  time  when  the  German  Government  was 
making  a  sincere  effort  to  conciliate  the  conquered 
provinces.  We  drove  about  the  battlefield  and  were 
much  impressed  with  the  care  taken  to  keep  all  the 
old  French  objects  of  interest,  and  especially  the 
French  soldiers'  cemetery,  in  good  order.  Where  only 
unrecognizable  bodies  were  found,  they  were  interred 
in  groups  and  a  cross  would  bear  the  words : 
Hier  ruhen  vierzehn  tapfere  Franzosen. 

I  found,  however,  that  the  peasants,  when  I  tried 
to  talk  with  them  in  German,  pretended  not  to  under- 
stand, but  so  soon  as  I  said  that  I  was  an  American, 
they  talked  freely  in  their  queer  German  dialect. 

At  dinner  Piakowski  told  us  he  came  from  a  Jewish- 
Polish  family  and,  when  Abbot  asked  him  how  he  got 
the  von,  he  related  that  one  of  his  ancestors  was  in  a 

(  137  ) 


regiment  which  fought  very  bravely  at  the  siege  of 
Vienna  in  1683;  that  when  the  victory  was  won,  the 
gallant  King,  Sobieski,  had  all  the  survivors  of  this 
regiment  parade  before  him  and  ennobled  every  man 
of  them.  Our  friend,  however,  although  he  was  of  the 
Christian  faith,  found  his  origin  so  serious  a  handicap 
that  he  left  the  army  sometime  afterward,  married  the 
dowerless  girl  he  loved  and  went  abroad  to  seek  his 
fortune  as  an  engineer. 

During  the  last  weeks  of  the  war,  your  mother  and 
I  went  to  visit  a  Polish  family  living  not  far  from 
Posen.  They  were  patients  who  could  not  conveniently 
come  to  me,  and  so  I  went  to  treat  them  at  their 
palace.  It  was  an  interesting  visit,  for  they  were 
charming  people,  living  in  the  lavish  Polish  way.  The 
table  was  always  spread  with  a  number  of  extra 
plates,  in  case  any  visitors  should  come,  for  any  of 
their  friends  from  a  circuit  of  thirty  miles  or  so  might 
arrive  at  any  moment  and  stay  until  they  should  be 
inclined  to  go  home  again.  There  was  a  charming 
young  Frenchman  living  in  the  family  and  I  wondered 
why  he  was  not  fighting  for  his  country  at  home.  One 
evening  after  dinner,  our  host  took  me  into  his  study 
and  told  me  he  would  show  me  his  greatest  treasure. 
He  unlocked  his  safe  and  took  out  carefully  a  pocket- 
book  containing  an  exquisite  ivory  miniature  of  Na- 
poleon. Then  he  told  me  that  his  father  had  been  ad- 

(  138  ) 


jutant  to  Napoleon.  During  a  battle,  the  Emperor 
had  exhausted  the  leaves  of  his  own  pocketbook  in 
writing  orders  and  borrowed  that  of  his  adjutant,  but 
forgot  to  return  it.  Some  days  afterwards,  the  Em- 
peror said  to  him:  "Adjutant,  I  borrowed  your  book 
the  other  day,  allow  me  to  replace  it."  And  then  he 
gave  him  this  one  with  his  portrait.  My  host  narrated 
that  his  father  had  an  intimate  friendship  with  a 
French  officer,  who  occupied  the  same  position  upon 
Napoleon's  staff  as  himself  and,  upon  their  separation 
after  Napoleon's  downfall,  they  promised  to  bequeath 
their  friendship  to  their  children.  When  the  first  French 
officers  were  brought  to  Berlin,  our  host  read  among 
the  published  names  that  of  his  father's  friend.  He 
at  once  made  his  way  to  the  front  and  chanced  to  find 
the  King  in  good  humour.  He  said  to  him:  "Your 
Majesty,  none  of  my  family  have  ever  asked  a  favour 
of  the  Prussian  Crown,  but  now  I  have  come  to  beg 
one."  He  then  told  the  King  of  his  father's  friend  and 
asked  permission  to  take  the  young  French  lieutenant 
of  that  name  out  of  prison,  promising  to  be  responsi- 
ble for  him,  and  the  King  wrote  him  an  order  at  once. 
Upon  releasing  the  young  man  he  found  that  he  was 
the  grandson  of  his  father's  friend.  He  then  took  him 
to  his  estate,  where  ever  since  he  had  been  living  with 
him  as  if  he  were  his  son. 
All  throughout  the  war  there  was  no  violent  hatred 

o 

(  139 ) 


to  their  foes  expressed  by  the  Germans.  They  were 
fighting  a  pernicious  and  dangerous  government,  but 
with  no  great  animosity  to  the  French,  and  seemed 
to  play  the  game  fairly. 

I  went  to  Berlin  to  see  the  triumphant  return  of  the 
victorious  Prussian  army.  It  was  a  mighty  host,  in- 
cluding deputations  representing  the  whole  German 
army.  At  its  head  rode  the  benignant  Emperor,  the 
very  picture  of  a  father  of  the  people,  followed  by  his 
brilliant  staff.  Bismarck  bore  the  arrogant  air  I  had 
observed  when  I  saw  him  first,  but  this  time  slightly 
tempered  by  the  tremendous  ovation  he  received, 
while  Moltke  rode  with  a  deprecatory  smile,  looking 
shy  and  ill  at  ease,  as  if  he  found  it  all  very  embarrass- 
ing. For  miles  the  triumphal  way  was  lined  with 
cannon  and  other  trophies  taken  from  the  enemy; 
every  soldier  was  decorated  with  flowers  and  the  un- 
restrained rejoicing  of  the  immense  crowd  of  the  peo- 
ple and  the  hope  of  enduring  peace  which  animated 
all  hearts  were  fitting  accompaniments  of  one  of  the 
world's  great  events.  The  Emperor,  first  acclaimed  in 
the  palace  of  Louis  XIV,  had  returned  as  a  modern 
Charlemagne  to  reign  over  a  united  and  constitutional 
Germany,  with  the  goodwill  of  nearly  all  the  world. 
Never  was  a  new  era  ushered  in  under  more  favourable 
conditions,  never  was  there  a  people  better  fitted  to 
improve  a  great  opportunity.  There  was  a  rapid  and 

(  140  ) 


continuous  development  of  industrial  and  commercial 
enterprise  from  which  everyone  seemed  to  profit.  My 
practice  became  more  exacting  and,  since  your  Uncle 
George's  ill  health  obliged  him  to  return  to  America, 
I  asked  him,  with  the  knowledge  he  had  of  the  situa- 
tion, to  look  up  for  me  a  man  who  had  succeeded  to 
my  practice  in  Bangor,  to  see  if  he  would  answer  as  an 
assistant.  An  arrangement  was  made  and  Mr.  Ellery 
Young  came  over  with  his  young  wife  and  was  soon 
a  great  aid  to  me. 


i873       Chapter  Seven       isso 

IN  the  spring  of  1873  we  made  our  first  visit  to 
America.  This  was  a  great  event  to  us.  Leonard  was 
five  years  old  and  Nora  a  baby  of  nine  months.  We 
had  been  absent  for  seven  years  and  were  returning 
to  find  all  the  members  of  our  two  families  well  and 
happy.  Nora  was  baptised  in  our  own  church  by  the 
Reverend  Dr.  Field,  our  old  pastor.  Your  mother  hesi- 
tated so  long  as  to  her  name  that  it  was  only  at  the 
last  moment  before  the  ceremony  that  this  was  de- 
cided upon.  But  the  child  passed  through  the  ordeal 
with  unparalleled  sweetness  and  composure.  We  had 
delightful  long  visits  in  Portland  and  Bangor,  saw 
nearly  all  our  old  friends,  made  some  new  ones  and 
enjoyed  every  moment  of  our  stay. 

I  feared  that  I  might  not  be  able  to  carry  on  my 
practice  abroad  very  long,  since  my  sensitive  throat 
caused  me  considerable  uneasiness,  and  therefore  dur- 
ing this  visit,  I  went  South  as  far  as  Tennessee,  and 
went  to  Nebraska  to  look  over  the  country,  with  a 
view  to  eventually  taking  to  farming  in  case  of  neces- 
sity. I  believed  that  the  most  solid  fortunes  in  Amer- 
ica, as  in  Europe,  would  eventually  be  found  in  land. 
I  had  been  greatly  impressed  by  what  I  had  seen  of 
the  advantages  of  well-managed  estates  in  Europe 

(  142  ) 


and  was  convinced  that  the  same  methods  introduced 
into  America  would  yield  even  more  satisfactory  re- 
sults. My  investigations  were  illuminating  and  I  was 
very  content  to  return  to  Europe  with  the  intention  of 
continuing  my  career  there  so  long  as  I  should  be  able. 

Just  as  I  was  leaving  Dresden  for  America,  Count 
Hugo  Henckel  von  Donnersmark,  whom  I  had  known 
for  some  years,  asked  me  to  buy  for  him  a  pair  of 
American  trotters,  which  could  go  inside  of  three 
minutes,  about  five  years  old  and  preferably  mares. 
I  promised  to  do  my  best  and  I  saw  a  great  number 
of  horses  which  were  supposed  to  have  the  necessary 
requirements,  but  all  of  whom  had  some  disabilities. 
At  last  I  found  two  geldings  with  which  I  was  satisfied, 
and  bought  them  after  an  inquiry  by  cable.  One  was 
a  dark  grey  horse  with  two  white  hind  feet  and  a 
cream-coloured  nose.  They  were  beautifully  propor- 
tioned, sixteen  hands  high,  gaited  exactly  alike  and 
moving  perfectly  together,  although  they  belonged  to 
different  owners  and  had  never  been  driven  together 
before. 

These  horses,  together  with  a  three-year-old  Knox 
stallion  which  I  had  bought  for  myself,  I  had  sent  to 
New  York  with  a  famous  negro  trainer  named  Jack- 
son, to  have  transported  to  Hamburg;  but,  upon  ar- 
riving in  New  York,  I  found  that  the  great  commer- 
cial panic  made  it  impossible  to  get  any  money.  At 

( 143 ) 


last  Cousin  Charles  and  Cousin  Joe  Folsom  pledged 
their  bank  accounts  for  security  and  I  was  able  to  get 
enough  money  to  transport  my  caravan  and  my  fam- 
ily. The  horses  arrived  in  Dresden  a  week  later  than 
we,  coming  in  just  at  nightfall,  and  were  sent  at  once 
to  the  Count's  stables.  Some  horse  dealers  had  told 
Count  Henckel  that  he  must  not  expect  a  professional 
man  to  get  him  a  decent  pair  of  horses,  and  he  must 
be  prepared  for  disappointment.  Therefore  early  the 
next  morning,  I  went  to  visit  the  horses,  to  see  if  they 
were  all  right,  but  I  was  met  by  these  men  who  were 
just  coming  away  after  inspecting  them.  I  asked  how 
they  found  them,  and  they  answered  with  one  accord 
that  they  had  never  before  seen  so  fine  a  pair.  After  a 
few  days,  when  the  horses  were  more  fit,  I  had  the 
grey  horse,  which  had  the  greater  speed,  put  into  a 
two-seated  top  buggy  which  I  had,  and  drove  out  the 
Count  and  Countess  to  show  his  gait.  After  a  time,  a 
sportsman  who  had  a  famous  Russian  trotter  came  up 
behind  and  essayed  to  pass  us.  I  let  him  come  where 
I  could  just  see  him  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  and 
then  let  "Prince"  increase  his  speed  just  enough  to 
keep  the  Russian  exactly  in  the  same  relative  posi- 
tion. When  I  had  played  with  our  competitor  long 
enough,  I  let  out  my  splendid  steed  and  he  left  the 
Russian  behind  "as  if  he  were  standing  still." 

I  found  Count  Henckel  had  bought  these  horses  as 

(  144  ) 


a  present  for  his  father,  who  was  one  of  the  most 
noted  sportsmen  in  Europe,  and  I  heard  him  say  to 
his  wife:  "When  the  Governor  drives  after  that  horse, 
he  will  be  scared  as  hell."  "Rodney,"  the  black  horse, 
died  after  a  few  years,  but  "Prince"  lived  until  he  was 
about  twenty,  staunch  and  game  to  the  very  last. 
Henckel  told  me  that  his  father  always  drove  the 
horse  himself  and  when  he  had  shooting  parties,  even 
when  he  had  the  "All  Highests"  as  gLiests,  he  would 
send  off  his  party  in  the  drag  and  follow  by  himself, 
driving  the  noble  "Prince." 

The  trainer,  Jackson,  was  much  interested  in  my 
stallion,  whom  I  had  named  "Nox."  He  promised  to 
break  him  for  me,  but  said  he  must  first  make  his  ac- 
quaintance. For  a  day  or  so  the  man  sat  in  the  stable 
near  the  stall  and  studied  the  horse.  Then  he  took  him 
out,  harnessed  him  and  drove  him  without  the  least 
difficulty  and,  in  a  few  days,  trusted  me  to  drive  him 
in  double  harness  with  "Box."  I  was  astonished  to  see 
how  perfectly  Jackson  understood  the  high-spirited 
creature,  seeming  to  know  his  every  caprice  and  al- 
ways saying  just  the  right  word  with  exactly  the  right 
inflection  to  suit  his  every  mood. 

Before  going  to  America,  I  had  a  considerable  Eng- 
lish clientele,  some  of  whom  urged  me  to  give  up 
Dresden  and  settle  in  London.  Accordingly  I  took  my 
journey  by  way  of  London,  where  we  stayed  for  a  few 

( 145) 


weeks.  I  found  there  was  no  doubt  of  the  value  of  the 
field,  but  the  climate  was  so  distressing  to  me,  that  I 
quickly  decided  that  no  degree  of  professional  success 
could  compensate  me  for  trying  to  live  there.  Since 
then  I  have  visited  England  at  all  seasons  of  the  year, 
and  have  always  been  very  grateful  that  my  lot  was 
not  cast  there,  since,  under  all  circumstances,  I  have 
found  the  climate  peculiarly  trying. 

In  the  spring  of  1874  your  Grandfather  Upton  died. 
Taken  in  the  prime  of  his  rare  abilities,  he  was  a  great 
loss  to  us  all,  but  we  were  measurably  consoled  by  the 
remembrance  of  his  honourable  and  useful  life  and  the 
bright  example  of  exalted  religious  faith,  especially 
evinced  in  his  last  days  of  suffering. 

Your  mother  went  at  once  to  America  upon  hearing 
of  her  father's  death  and,  when  she  returned,  she 
brought  your  Grandmother  Jenkins  with  her.  I  went 
on  to  Hamburg  to  welcome  them  and  it  was  a  great 
pleasure  to  me  to  see  how  my  dear  mother  enjoyed 
every  incident  of  her  European  experience.  The  even- 
ing before  leaving  for  Dresden,  I  took  her  to  "Fisher's 
Keller"  to  dine  and  we  had  a  wonderful  bottle  of 
claret,  remarkable  even  for  Hamburg,  where  good 
wine  was  a  cherished  tradition.  I  asked  the  landlord, 
who  afterwards  established  "Pforte's  Restaurant" 
and  made  it  renowned  throughout  the  world,  if  he 
could  spare  me  a  few  bottles  of  this  noble  wine,  but  he 

( 146 ) 


said  it  was  impossible,  as  he  needed  every  drop  of  it 
for  his  appreciative  clientele;  but  when  I  told  him  I 
wanted  at  least  one  bottle  for  my  mother,  as  we  had 
to  take  luncheon  with  us  on  the  train  to  Dresden,  res- 
taurant cars  being  then  unknown,  he  consented,  as  a 
great  concession,  to  give  me  one  bottle  for  the  sake  of 
the  hochverehrte  gnddige  Frau  ("the  revered  lady"), 
who  thanked  him  with  a  soulful  glance  from  her  beau- 
tiful, deep-blue  eyes. 

During  the  following  winter,  I  was  able  to  take 
your  grandmother,  in  spite  of  her  frail  health,  to  a  few 
entertainments,  which  she  greatly  enjoyed,  especially 
a  delightful  Christmas  play,  "one  of  the  real  old  sort," 
and  she  appreciated  them  all  greatly,  enjoying  every- 
thing as  naturally  as  a  child.  But  in  the  spring  she  was 
taken  with  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs  and,  although 
she  recovered  from  this  attack,  she  felt  that  her  end 
was  drawing  nigh  and  wished  to  return  home.  As  your 
mother's  state  of  health  did  not  allow  me  to  leave  her, 
I  placed  my  dear  mother  under  the  care  of  my  friend, 
Mr.  David  Leavett,  who  was  going  with  his  family  to 
America  and,  from  the  time  I  left  her  on  board  the  ship 
with  him,  he  cared  for  her  like  a  son,  as  she  wrote  me, 
until  your  aunt  received  her  upon  landing  in  New  York. 
I  never  forgot  Leavett's  kindness  and  was  happy  to  be, 
in  later  years,  a  help  to  him  in  time  of  serious  trouble. 

My  dear  mother  died  on  September  14, 1875,  at  her 

( 147) 


daughter's  home  in  Portland,  leaving  to  us  precious 
memories  of  a  noble,  useful  and  saintly  life. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  November  of  that  same 
year,  Grace  was  born,  and  displayed  a  delightful  origi- 
nality of  character  from  the  moment  of  her  birth.  Dr. 
Johnson  wrote:  "There  are  some  people  to  whom 
queer  things  happen  daily  and  others  to  whom  they 
occur  once  a  year."  Grace  was  of  the  former  type.  Her 
adventures  were,  however,  "fresh  every  morning,  new 
every  evening  and  renewed  every  moment." 

Eighteen  seventy-five  was  also  a  year  of  public  anx- 
iety. There  were  rumours  of  military  preparation  on 
hand  and  it  was  feared  that  France  was  again  to  be 
attacked.  Only  in  recent  times  has  the  world  learned 
how  near  we  were  to  a  fresh  contest  with  France  dur- 
ing this  year.  But  the  danger  happily  passed  and  the 
progress  of  central  Europe  was  uninterrupted. 

In  the  seventies  Mr.  Young  became  desirous  of 
making  a  practice  for  himself.  Accordingly  I  turned 
over  to  him  all  the  Leipzig  patients,  of  whom  there 
were  a  great  number,  and  after  a  time  he  had  formed 
the  basis  of  a  practice  among  them.  In  the  meantime 
your  Uncle  Charles  had  studied  dentistry  and  gradu- 
ated at  New  York,  and  came  over  to  take  the  place  of 
Young  in  my  practice.  It  was  delightful  to  have  him 
and  Aunt  Fanny  with  us  and  all  you  children  will 
cherish  happy  memories  of  those  years. 

(  148  ) 


I  worked  tremendously  and  occasionally  felt  the 
necessity  for  a  marked  change.  In  the  spring  of  1879 
I  had  planned  to  take  a  trip  to  Constantinople.  Some 
of  my  Austrian  patients  asked  me  to  stay  over  in 
Vienna  en  route  to  treat  them  there  and  so  save  them 
the  trouble  of  a  journey  to  Dresden  in  the  spring.  I 
gladly  consented  and  for  some  three  weeks  was  greatly 
occupied  in  treating  my  old  patients  and  a  consider- 
able number  of  new  ones.  We  had  a  magnificent  suite 
in  the  Hotel  Imperial,  looking  out  on  the  Ring,  one 
which  was  usually  occupied  by  royal  personages,  and 
"from  early  morn  to  dewy  eve"  I  was  occupied  in 
treating  the  interesting  people  who  consulted  me.  I 
had  a  valet  de  place  who  knew  about  them  all,  since 
Vienna  society  was  then,  even  more  than  now,  made 
up  of  a  few  famihes  intimately  connected  by  marriage 
and  other  ties  of  interest,  and  of  whom  I  knew  little, 
except  that  many  of  them  bore  historic  names.  So 
Giardini  (the  Sardine  we  called  him  in  our  frivolous 
moments)  a  stately  Italian,  whose  German,  though 
curiously  unintelligible  to  your  mother,  was  easily 
understood  by  me  from  the  inflections  of  his  courtly 
voice,  became  a  most  useful  appendage.  Although  a 
servant,  he  had  really  the  soul  and  altogether  the  air 
of  an  ambassador  of  the  old  school.  It  was  delightful 
to  see  the  varying  degree  of  deference  with  which  he 
announced  my  different  visitors.  I  could  understand 

(  149  ) 


their  relative  importance  instantly  through  his  man- 
ner and  his  tone.  I  found,  in  later  years,  that  he  was  at 
heart  a  republican,  but  he  had  learned  everything  nec- 
essary to  the  profession  of  an  Austrian  Herrschajtlicher 
Diener  and  served  me  devotedly  during  my  visits, 
until  his  death. 

Among  the  important  personages  who  welcomed 
me  to  Vienna,  Princess  Paulina  Metternich  was  chief. 
From  the  first  moment  that  she  consulted  me  in  Dres- 
den, she  became  my  staunch  friend  and  showed  me 
unending  kindness.  You  will  all  remember,  as  you  suc- 
cessively grew  old  enough  to  visit  Vienna  with  us,  how 
often  she  placed  her  box  at  the  Imperial  Opera  or  the 
Burg  Theatre  at  our  disposal,  but  no  one  but  myself 
can  know  how  much  I  owed  to  her  constant  interest 
in  my  career  and  her  generous  and  hearty  advocacy. 

She  was  one  of  the  grandes  dames  of  Europe,  having 
been  one  of  the  most  influential  personages  at  the 
Court  of  Louis  Napoleon  when  her  husband  was  Aus- 
tro-Hungarian  Ambassador  before  and  during  the  war 
of  1870.  She  was  accustomed  to  come  to  Dresden  to 
consult  me  in  the  autumn  and  I  saw  her  again  in  the 
spring  during  the  quarter  of  a  century  in  which  I  con- 
tinued my  visits  to  Vienna,  as  was  expected  of  me 
after  this  first  visit. 

If  I  were  to  mention  all  those  who  showed  me  espe- 
cial kindness  during  these  years,  I  should  be  obliged 

( 150) 


to  include  many  of  the  most  eminent  families  of  the 
Dual  Monarchy. 

You  will  all  remember  the  Clam  Gallas  family. 
Countess  Clam  Gallas,  nee  Princess  Dietrichstein,  was 
a  very  prominent  member  of  Austrian  society  and  had 
already  been  one  of  my  patients  for  some  years.  She 
had  been,  and  indeed  still  was,  one  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful women  in  the  world.  You  will  remember  her  hand- 
some yellow  coach  and  her  beautiful  horses,  with 
which  she  used  to  drive  in  state  in  the  Prater. 

One  day  when  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  house 
was  showing  me  over  their  palace,  I  was  taken  to  the 
library  to  be  presented  to  Count  Clam  Gallas.  It  was 
thirteen  years  after  Koniggratz,  during  all  of  which 
time  he  had  borne  the  undeserved  reproach  of  having 
been  responsible  for  that  great  disaster.  He  was,  de- 
spite being  broken  in  health,  a  gallant  example  of  a 
chivalrous  Austrian  general  of  the  old  school.  His  elder 
daughter,  Princess  Khevenhiiller,  whom  Nora  will  re- 
member, told  me  a  story  which  illustrates  the  loyal 
and  high-minded  character  of  her  father. 

Some  time  after  the  death  of  the  general,  the  young 
Count  Clam  Gallas,  upon  looking  over  the  plans  of 
the  estate,  concluded  that  the  trees  of  a  certain  forest 
must  be  more  than  ready  to  be  felled  and  sent  to  have 
them  examined.  The  forester  reported  that  the  trees 
were  far  too  young,  but  there  was  no  record  of  the  for- 

( 151 ) 


est,  planted  so  long  ago,  ever  having  been  cut.  While 
they  were  puzzling  over  this  affair,  it  chanced  that  an 
old  officer  friend,  who  had  served  under  the  general, 
came  on  a  visit.  The  young  Count  chanced  to  mention 
the  mystery  of  this  forest,  when  the  guest  said  he  was 
the  only  man  living  who  could  explain  it.  It  seems  dur- 
ing one  of  the  Italian  wars,  the  Bohemian  regiment  of 
which  Count  Clam  was  then  colonel  and  the  guest  his 
adjutant  was  ordered  to  prepare  for  service.  The  Aus- 
trian Government  was,  however,  as  usual,  in  no  condi- 
tion to  properly  fit  out  the  regiment  for  active  service. 
Accordingly  the  Count  sold  the  timber  of  this  forest, 
which  was  then  in  perfect  condition  for  cutting,  and 
with  the  proceeds  equipped  his  regiment  and  led  it 
into  the  field  the  best  prepared  of  any  of  the  force. 

When  the  war  was  over  and  the  regimental  accounts 
were  being  made  out,  the  adjutant  reminded  the  col- 
onel that  he  had  expended  this  large  sum,  which 
should  be  included  in  the  accounts  to  be  recovered 
from  the  Government;  but  Clam  Gallas  told  him 
never  to  refer  to  the  subject  again,  for  it  was  a  matter 
between  him  and  his  Emperor. 

Princess  Khevenhiiller  told  me  another  story  of  her 
father's  early  manhood,  when  he  was  an  officer  in  a 
regiment  on  the  frontier  where  cholera  was  raging.  In 
those  days  little  was  known  of  this  dread  disease  and, 
when  young  Clam  Gallas  was  stricken  and  had  appar- 

( 152) 


ently  died,  he  was  placed  in  a  mortuary,  that  later  he 
might  have  fitting  burial  instead  of  being  thrown  into 
a  trench  like  a  common  soldier.  His  body  servant, 
however,  refusing  to  believe  that  such  a  strong  young 
man  could  be  killed  by  only  a  short  illness,  stole  the 
body  by  night  and  took  it  back  to  his  quarters.  There 
he  worked  over  it  with  hot  blankets,  much  friction 
and  plenty  of  brandy,  and  finally  resuscitated  his 
master. 

The  grateful  Count  promised  to  give  his  faithful 
servant  any  reward  he  might  ask  and  the  man  begged 
for  a  position  in  the  family  service  to  which,  because 
of  his  illiteracy,  he  was  unsuited.  After  trying  to  in- 
duce him  to  accept  another  post,  young  Clam  Gallas 
was  finally  obliged  to  grant  the  request  and  the  man 
proved  to  be  the  most  capable  and  devoted  of  all  the 
people  in  the  department,  managing  his  master's  af- 
fairs, after  learning  to  read  and  write,  with  scrupulous 
honesty  and  rare  intelligence. 

In  the  first  days  of  our  stay  in  Vienna,  Baron  Stock- 
hausen, — father  of  the  younger  baron  you  all  knew  in 
Dresden — who  had  been  the  Hanoverian  Minister  to 
BerHn  before  the  War  of  1866,  came  to  call  upon  me 
and  asked  if  I  would  go  to  the  palace  in  Penzing,  a 
suburb  of  Vienna,  to  treat  the  Duke  of  Cumberland. 
The  Stockhausens  were  among  those  members  of  the 
Hanoverian  aristocracy  who  remained  steadfastly  at- 

( ^53) 


tached  to  their  Royal  House  after  their  country  had 
become  a  Prussian  province.  The  Duke  was  the  son  of 
the  unfortunate  Wind  King  and  was  Uving  under  one 
of  his  English  titles  in  Austria,  where  he  was  a  wel- 
come guest  since  his  House  had  sacrificed  itself  for  the 
Austrian  cause. 

I  went  very  gladly,  and  then  began  a  connection 
which  continued  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  up  to  the 
time  when  I  renounced  my  annual  journey  to  Vienna. 
I  had,  on  that  occasion,  to  treat  chiefly  the  Duchess, 
who  was  one  of  the  Denmark  Princesses  and  sister  of 
the  then  Empress  of  Russia  and  of  the  Princess  of 
Wales,  afterwards  Queen  Alexandra,  and  from  that 
time  on  I  saw  the  family  regularly  once  a  year,  either 
at  Penzing,  or  in  Gmunden  where  the  Duke  built  a 
great  castle  and  held  his  little  court.  Those  visits  to 
Gmunden  were  all  interesting.  Usually  your  mother 
accompanied  me,  and  once  or  more  Nora  and  Grace. 
The  beautiful  widowed  Queen  of  Hanover  lived  in  a 
villa  close  to  the  ducal  palace  and  she  came  to  have  an 
almost  pathetic  confidence  in  the  value  of  the  treat- 
ment I  could  give  her.  Her  daughters,  the  Princesses 
Mary  and  Frederica,  had  much  of  the  beauty  of  the 
Queen  and  the  dignified  stature  of  the  King  and  were 
as  noble  of  soul  as  they  were  splendid  in  person. 

The  last  time  I  saw  the  Queen,  I  had  come  to  Gmun- 
den alone  and  was  very  weary  from  overwork,  and 

( 154) 


when  my  treatment  was  finished,  she  begged  me  to 
remain,  not  as  a  doctor,  but  as  a  friend  and  to  recover 
among  those  who  cared  so  much  for  me  and  so  greatly 
appreciated  my  society.  I  was  much  touched  and 
would  have  shown  my  gratitude  by  remaining,  had 
it  not  been  that  your  mother  was  waiting  for  me  in 
Paris.  Once  I  visited  the  Queen  for  a  few  days  at 
Kissingen,  and  there  Baron  von  Klenck,  the  Hofmar- 
shal,  told  me  of  Bismarck's  once  coming  there  during 
Her  Majesty's  annual  visit.  Some  members  of  her 
court  urged  the  Queen  to  show  her  displeasure  by  leav- 
ing at  once,  but  she  refused,  saying  it  was  Bismarck 
who  should  flee  before  her,  not  she  who  should  flee 
from  Bismarck. 

Upon  one  occasion  I  came  to  Gmunden  when  the 
oldest  son  was  dangerously  ill.  The  very  day  of  my 
arrival  the  poor  young  prince  was  so  low  that  the 
physicians  lost  all  hope,  the  last  sacrament  was  ad- 
ministered and  the  royal  family  bade  him  farewell, 
not  expecting  him  to  last  through  the  night.  In  the 
morning  the  Duke  came  to  my  room  and  reported  the 
conditions.  There  had  been  a  change  for  the  better  of 
such  a  character  that  I  felt  certain,  from  knowledge  of 
a  similar  case  I  had  once  seen,  that  a  recovery  could 
occur,  and  so  I  ventured  to  tell  the  Duke  that  the  boy 
was  doubtless  out  of  danger.  So  it  proved  to  be  and, 
upon  my  departure  a  fortnight  later,  the  Duke  took 

( 155) 


me  to  the  room  of  the  invahd,  that  I  might  see  for  my- 
self that  my  prophecy  was  being  fulfilled.  The  poor 
sufferer  gave  me  his  thin  hand  and  thanked  me  for  my 
solicitude  and  asked  me  to  stay  for  a  few  minutes  con- 
versation. When  I  bade  him  farewell  I  said:  "Dear 
young  Prince,  God  has  spared  you  for  a  noble  des- 
tiny." His  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  replied:" I  hope 
so."  But  the  illness  had  left  a  permanent  stiffness  of 
one  leg.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  he  could  ride 
or  enjoy  other  manly  sports,  but  when  automobiling 
came  in  he  took  it  up  with  enthusiasm.  In  the  prime 
of  his  promising  early  manhood,  when  he  had  become 
endeared  to  those  who  knew  him  best  and  wished  well 
to  the  Royal  House,  he  was  driving  through  Germany 
on  his  way  to  Copenhagen,  where  the  whole  family  was 
assembled,  when  he  came  suddenly,  while  going  at  a 
high  speed,  upon  a  piece  of  bad  road  and  his  stiff  knee 
prevented  him  from  reducing  the  pace  quickly  enough, 
with  the  result  that  he,  and  one  of  his  attendants, 
were  instantly  killed.  At  least  he  was  spared  the  horror 
of  the  World  War  and  the  experience  of  the  discredit- 
ing and  downfall  of  monarchical  governments. 

The  court  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  chiefly 
Hanoverian  in  its  personnel,  but  there  were  some  Aus- 
trians  also.  I  arrived  at  Gmunden  just  after  the  Span- 
ish War  broke  out  and  knew,  of  course,  that  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  court  must  be  with  Spain,  as,  indeed, 

( 156) 


was  the  case  everywhere  on  the  continent  of  Europe; 
but  they  were  all  most  considerate  of  my  position  and 
never  mentioned  the  war  in  my  presence;  only  if  I 
came  unaware  upon  a  group  engaged  in  conversation, 
the  sudden  silence  plainly  indicated  the  subject  of  dis- 
course. When  I  came  the  next  year,  the  war  was  over, 
and  the  terms  of  peace  had  been  found  honourable,  but 
still  there  was  much  ill  feeling  against  America.  One 
evening  after  dinner,  the  Duke  looked  about  for  a 
secure  corner  where  we  could  not  be  overheard  and 
taking  me  there,  he  said  he  wished  to  ask  me  a  ques- 
tion. He  wanted  to  know  how  an  American  army,  only 
partially  composed  of  regular  troops,  could  attack  a 
trained  European  army  in  a  situation  and  behind  de- 
fenses which  they  had  themselves  selected  and  pre- 
pared and  which  they  were  defending  with  superior 
arms;  and  could  not  only  defeat  the  enemy,  but  also 
take  a  number  of  prisoners  greater  than  the  whole 
number  of  the  attacking  American  force.  I  could  only 
answer  him,  Yankee-like,  by  asking  if  his  Royal  High- 
ness did  not  think  that  had  often  been  the  case  when 
a  Germanic  and  Latin  force  met  on  the  battlefield.  I 
then  reminded  him  of  the  battle  of  Buena  Vista,  which 
General  Taylor  fought  on  Washington's  birthday  in 
1847.  You  children  may  scarcely  have  heard  of  that 
glorious  victory.  There  were  five  thousand  Americans, 
half  of  them  being  volunteers,  against  20,000  regular 

( 157) 


troops,  the  flower  of  the  Mexican  army,  with  whom,  as 
Santa  Anna  boasted  as  he  attacked  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, he  could  destroy  the  little  American  army  in  two 
hours.  But  the  battle  lasted  until  nightfall  with  the 
result  described  in  Albert  Pike's  fine  ballad,  the  last 
verse  of  which  runs : 

The  guns  still  roared  at  intervals,  but  silence  fell  at  last. 
And  on  the  dead  and  dying  came  the  evening  shadows  fast, 
And  then  above  the  mountains  rose  the  cold  moon's  silver  shield, 
And  patiently  and  pitying  she  looked  upon  the  field, 
While  careless  of  his  wounded  and  neglectful  of  his  dead, 
Despairingly  and  sullenly  by  night  Santa  Anna  fled. 

I  found  the  Duke  knew  of  the  battle,  for  royalties 
generally  know  about  historical  battles,  but  I  did  not 
quote  from  the  poem  as  I  have  done  for  you. 

Upon  another  occasion,  when  we  were  all  sitting  in 
the  great  Gothic  hall  where  we  smoked  after  dinner 
and  the  ladies  plied  their  knitting,  the  conversation 
turned  upon  an  extraordinary  duel  which  had  recently 
occurred.  After  a  time  the  Duke  asked  me  why  duel- 
ling had  gone  out  in  America.  I  explained  how  it  had 
gradually  passed  away  in  the  North  and  practically 
disappeared  throughout  the  whole  country  upon  the 
downfall  of  slavery,  and  was  on  the  point  of  adding, 
**true  relic  of  barbarism,"  but  happily  suppressed  the 
impulse.  He  then  spoke  of  duelling  as  regrettable,  but 
sometimes  unavoidable.  "For  instance,"  he  said,  "if 

(  158  ) 


you  were  to  call  me  a  donkey  and  I  had  you  arrested 
and  fined  ten  gulden,  I  should  remain  a  donkey  still." 
I  did  not  inquire  what  he  would  have  been  had  he 
called  me  to  "the  field  of  honour"  and  I  had  shot  him 
through  the  heart,  but  I  reminded  him  that  often  it 
was  the  wrong  man  who  got  killed. 

During  all  the  years  that  I  attended  the  Hanoverian 
Royal  House,  I  was  treated  with  great  consideration. 
In  Austria  it  was  thought,  until  the  Archduke  Theo- 
dore became  an  oculist,  that  no  department  of  medi- 
cine could  be  the  occupation  of  a  gentleman,  and 
physicians  were  treated  with  scanty  respect  by  the 
upper  classes.  But  I,  as  an  American,  was  accepted  as 
a  gentleman,  despite  my  profession. 

The  Duke  was  an  enthusiastic  horseman.  I  once 
sent  him  an  American  horseclipping  machine,  which 
greatly  lightened  the  burden  of  clipping  in  the  stables. 
When  I  arrived  the  next  season,  the  head  coachman, 
a  very  capable  man  but  of  diminutive  stature  and 
ugly  of  countenance,  did  the  honours  of  the  stable  with 
especial  empressement.  I  chanced  to  ask  him  about  the 
famous  cream-coloured  horses,  which  had  been  bred 
so  many  years  for  the  royal  stables,  but  which  of  late 
years  had  been  bred  no  more.  ^^Achl'^  he  said,  ^^der 
gnddiger  Herr  sollte  nur  die  PJerde  gesehen  haben  womit 
ich  meinen  hochseligen  Konig  immer  in  Paris  ausjuhr. 
Immer  ah  voir  auf  den  Champs  Ely  sees  kamen^  da  steht 

( 159) 


die  ganze  Welt  und  schaute  mich  an  I  "*  The  King  hav- 
ing been  one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  Europe  and 
very  popular  in  Paris  gave  especial  point  to  this  im- 
portant information. 

In  all  the  years  during  which  I  knew  the  Duke,  I 
had  reason  only  to  respect  and  admire  him.  He  was  a 
great  gentleman.  The  Countess  Clam  Gallas  once  said 
to  me  with  emphasis :"  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  is  a 
very  honourable  man."  This  was  the  prevailing  senti- 
ment in  Austria.  It  was  believed  that  he  had  promised 
his  father  upon  his  deathbed,  never  to  renounce  his 
claim  to  the  Hanoverian  throne.  In  any  event,  he  was 
unable  to  occupy  the  throne  of  Brunswick,  to  which 
he  became  heir  upon  the  death  of  the  reigning  duke, 
because  he  would  not  renounce  Hanover.  Baron 
Klenck  once  told  me,  when  I  had  become  an  habitual 
visitor  and  he  felt  that  I  was  sympathetic  to  their 
cause,  that  the  Duke  knew  perfectly  well  that  the 
crown  of  Hanover  was  irretrievably  lost,  but  that  he 
could  not  become  reconciled  to  the  Empire  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  honour.  He  could  not  repudiate  a  people 
who  had  not  repudiated  him. 

It  chanced  that  in  1888,  the  year  of  the  three  em- 
perors, that  I  was  with  the  Duchess  when  the  Duke 
came  in  with  a  telegram  in  his  hand  to  announce  that 

*"  Your  Honour  should  have  seen  the  horses  I  had  in  Paris  to  drive  out  our 
gracious  King  of  blessed  memory.  When  we  came  into  the  Champs  Elysees, 
all  the  world  stood  still  and  stared  at  me." 

(  160  ) 


the  Emperor  Wilhelm  had  just  died.  Knowing  as  I  did 
something  of  the  wrongs  and  indignities  which  the 
Hanoverian  House,  and  especially  the  blind  King  and 
his  son,  had  suffered  from  the  Prussian  Government 
with  the  knowledge  and  consent  of  the  Emperor,  I 
should  not  have  found  it  strange  if  there  had  been 
some  evidence  of  injured  feeling  on  the  part  of  the 
ducal  pair.  But  their  demeanour  was  worthy  of  the 
tragic  event.  Their  enemy  was  dead,  the  Emperor 
Friederic  was  dying  of  a  distressing  and  incurable  mal- 
ady, but  they  were  only  conscious  that  a  great  man 
and  a  great  German  had  passed  away. 

That  same  morning  I  telegraphed  to  our  mayor, 
Stubel,  who  was  my  patient  and  friend,  expressions  of 
sympathy  and  condolence  in  my  own  name  as  well  as 
in  that  of  the  American  colony  in  Dresden,  of  which 
I  was  the  oldest  member. 

Two  months  afterwards,  on  our  return  journey  from 
Italy,  I  was  accosted  at  a  railroad  station  by  a  gentle- 
man I  did  not  know,  who  told  me  he  was  a  Dresdner 
who  had  read  my  telegram  in  the  Anzeiger,  to  which 
the  mayor  had  sent  it  with  all  the  others  received  by 
him  at  that  sad  time.  He  wished  to  assure  me  that  my 
sympathy  had  been  greatly  appreciated  and  he  desired 
personally  to  thank  me.  This  was  the  case  also  with 
friends  and  total  strangers  whom  I  met  on  the  street 
upon  returning  to  Dresden;  but  they  were  Saxons  all. 

(  i6i  ) 


While  in  Vienna  upon  this  first  occasion,  I  used  to 
go  every  morning  on  a  walk,  as  I  did  generally  after- 
wards in  following  visits.  This  took  me  by  St.  Stephen's 
and  I  always  paused  to  admire  the  glorious  spire.  No 
other  has  ever  seemed  to  me  so  completely  beautiful, 
but  I  still  perversely  insisted  that  if  the  graceful  pin- 
nacles had  been  carried  up  just  one  tier  higher  about 
the  lofty  core,  the  effect  of  fountain-like  lightness 
would  have  been  yet  greater.  This  fancied  imperfec- 
tion always  distressed  me,  until  I  chanced,  after  an 
absence  of  some  years,  again  to  visit  Vienna  and  took 
my  accustomed  morning  walk,  when,  behold!  I  had 
ripened  to  a  truer  sense  of  proportion  and  this  superb 
creation  was  revealed  to  my  enlightened  vision  in  the 
completeness  of  its  perfect  symmetry. 


i88o        Chapter  Eight       isso 

WE  had  planned  to  go  to  Constantinople  through 
Italy,  and  when  for  our  first  trip  to  that  land  of 
enchantment  we  came  in  Vienna  to  the  railroad  sta- 
tion for  southbound  travellers,  we  could  hardly  con- 
tain ourselves  for  joy.  Our  route  led  over  the  Semmer- 
ing  and  the  Julian  Alps,  with  Venice  as  our  first  stop- 
ping place.  I  had  managed  to  get  a  compartment  to 
ourselves,  after  my  usual  manner,  and  we  could  thus 
command  both  windows  and  be  as  antic  as  we  liked. 
It  happened  to  be  after  the  fifteenth  of  March  and  in 
those  days  the  heating  of  the  cars  was  discontinued 
arbitrarily  on  that  date,  without  regard  to  the  tem- 
perature. We  had  had  no  experience  of  the  rigours  of 
southern  climates  in  the  spring  and  had  not  taken  suf- 
ficient precautions,  so  I  had,  before  we  reached  the 
warmer  plain,  to  take  up  the  carpet  from  the  floor  to 
wrap  about  your  shivering  mother.  But,  if  Italy  gave 
us  a  cooler  welcome  than  we  had  anticipated,  it  could 
not  "freeze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul,"  and  every 
moment  of  our  trip  from  Venice  to  Naples  was  full  of 
delight.  We  came  to  Venice  at  midnight  and  found  the 
gondola  of  the  Grand  Hotel,  where  the  Princess  Win- 
dischgratz  advised  us  to  stay,  awaiting  us,  and  the 
next  morning  we  were  awakened  by  the  bells  of  Maria 

( 163 ) 


della  Salute  calling  to  morning  mass,  while  the  waves 
of  the  Grand  Canal  lapped  beneath  our  windows. 

I  had  promised  Princess  Dietrichstein  to  take  her 
son.  Count  Mensdorff,  for  a  treatment,  as  he  was  just 
then  with  his  tutor  at  Venice,  and  so  asked  for  an 
apartment  suitable  to  my  purpose.  The  landlord  had 
reserved  a  mighty  wilderness  of  gigantic  rooms  for  us, 
but  they  were  far  too  oppressive.  Your  dear  mother 
was  not  very  well  and,  upon  reentering  after  a  short 
morning  walk,  I  found  her  in  one  of  our  magnificent 
rooms  half  distracted  because  she  had  been  counting 
the  legs  of  the  sofas  spread  about  the  vast  space  and 
had  got  to  fifty  which  she  felt  was  altogether  too 
much  for  true  restfulness  such  as  she  needed.  So  we 
arranged  for  a  more  modest  and  far  more  comfortable 
apartment,  in  which  I  could  do  the  little  work  I  was 
asked  to  do  for  a  few  patients,  and  where  your  mother 
could  lounge  on  a  balcony  and  rest  to  her  heart's 
content. 

Young  Mensdorff  became  a  constant  patient  until 
he  went  to  some  diplomatic  post,  I  think  it  was  Paris, 
where  there  was  a  colleague  to  whom  I  could  entrust 
him.  He  had  been  Austrian  Ambassador  at  London 
for  many  years,  until  the  breaking  out  of  the  World 
War.  He  had  been  a  great  favourite,  especially  in  the 
time  of  Queen  Victoria,  with  whom,  I  believe  on  the 
side  of  the  Prince  Consort,  there  was  some  relationship. 

(164) 


Anothef  patient  of  mine  during  his  youth  and  early- 
manhood,  Prince  Lichnowsky,  was  the  German  Am- 
bassador to  England  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war.  Both 
he  and  his  Austrian  colleague  were  very  popular  in 
London  society,  but  it  may  be  doubted  if  they  were 
much  enlightened  as  to  the  character,  temperament 
and  opinions  of  the  British  people.  It  is  exactly  be- 
cause they  were  so  popular  in  society  that  they  knew 
so  little  of  the  real  England.  As  I  read  the  revelations 
of  Prince  Lichnowsky  in  the  publication  called  "The 
Guilt  of  Germany,"  it  was  as  if  I  could  hear  the  very 
tone  of  his  voice.  One  summer  I  met  him  at  Ems.  He 
was  still  a  young  man  and  had  not  begun  his  diplo- 
matic career,  but  he  talked  with  sympathetic  interest 
upon  many  subjects.  Both  Mensdorff  and  Lichnowsky 
belonged  to  the  class  of  diplomatists  who  are  not  usu- 
ally regarded  seriously.  When  Lichnowsky  was  taken 
up,  after  having  been  shelved  for  thirteen  years,  and 
sent  as  Ambassador  to  London,  no  one  but  himself 
had  any  doubt  what  his  appointment  meant.  After  the 
blunder  of  sending,  in  Marschall  von  Bieberstein,  an 
Ambassador  far  better  adapted  to  Constantinople 
than  London,  there  was  no  other  course  left  but  to 
replace  him  after  his  death  with  a  harmless  man  who 
would  easily  gain  the  favour  of  English  society.  He 
needed  to  be  a  man  of  rank  and  fortune  and  of  an 
amiable  disposition,  who  could  be  occupied  only  upon 

( 165 ) 


unimportant  work  and  who  could  be  kept  ignorant  of 
the  determination  of  the  German  Government  to  begin 
an  aggressive  war  at  the  first  promising  opportunity. 

Lichnowsky  was  as  if  born  and  bred  for  this  pur- 
pose. He  had  also  the  delightful  simplicity  of  the 
Slavic  race,  which,  when  united  to  the  advantage  of 
an  ancient  lineage,  most  attractive  manners  and  a 
love  of  lavish  entertainment,  is  sure  to  win  in  any  so- 
ciety. Many  of  the  nobles  of  his  class  in  Germany, 
Hungary  and  Austria  tried  to  model  themselves  after 
the  great  English  noblemen  and  spoke  English  as  one 
of  their  family  languages. 

I  am  appending  a  few  paragraphs  from  Lichnow- 
sky's  "Memorandum,"  which  was  designed  only  for 
his  family  archives,  but  which  fortunately  came  to 
light  just  when  the  truth  of  the  "Guilt  of  Germany" 
was  most  necessary  to  the  world.  These  paragraphs 
are  also  quoted  to  give  you  an  idea  of  what  the  view 
of  a  trained  diplomatist  was  of  his  mission  and  of  the 
nation  to  which  he  was  assigned.  In  the  time  of  your 
children  this  phase  of  diplomacy  is  likely  to  exist  only 
as  an  instructive  chapter  in  ancient  history.* 

But  to  return  to  Venice.  Countess  Mocenigo,  nee 
Princess  Windischgratz,  in  the  early  years  of  her 
young  widowhood  was  living  then  in  Venice  and  one 
afternoon  we  were  invited  to  her  palace.  There  we 

*See  Appendix,  note  4. 

(  166) 


found  Prince  Hugo  Windischgratz,  her  father,  and 
Prince  Robert,  her  uncle.  Princess  Marie,  the  young- 
est daughter  of  the  house,  was  also  there.  They  had  all 
been  patients  of  mine  for  several  years  and  I  found 
the  father  wished  to  speak  to  me  regarding  the  health 
of  Princess  Marie,  about  which,  as  she  seemed  going 
into  a  decline,  he  was  most  concerned. 

When  I  discovered,  however,  that  she  was  deeply 
in  love  with  her  cousin,  Duke  Paul  of  Mecklenburg- 
Schwerin,  and  that  opposition  was  being  made  to  the 
marriage  because  she  was  a  Catholic  and  he  a  Protes- 
tant, I  could  only  advise  that  a  dispensation  should  be 
sought  from  His  Holiness,  the  Pope,  as  being  more 
likely  to  work  a  cure  than  any  purposed  change  of 
climate. 

It  chanced  sometime  afterwards,  when  these  nego- 
tiations seemed  to  have  come  to  a  standstill,  that  the 
young  princess  was  in  Schwerin,  and  one  evening  the 
bluff  old  Duke,  who  had  played  a  great  part  in  both 
the  wars  of  1866  and  1870,  in  a  moment  of  impatience 
called  for  the  court  chaplain  and  commanded  him  to 
perform  the  marriage  service  at  Once.  This  character- 
istic act,  however,  caused  so  much  fluttering  in  the 
Mecklenburg-Schwerin  dove-cote,  that  the  young 
people  found  it  desirable  to  live  chiefly  in  Austria, 
where,  after  a  time,  the  Duke  became  a  Catholic  and 
was  received  into  the  Roman  Church. 

( 167 ) 


This  act  made  it  necessary  for  the  Duke  Paul  to  re- 
nounce for  himself  and  his  heirs  the  right  of  succession 
to  the  ducal  throne,  he  being  second  in  the  Hne.  Also 
it  was  accompanied  by  various  disabilities,  the  pa- 
tient endurance  of  which  showed  how  sincere  was  his 
conversion. 

Princess  Marie  Windischgratz  was  a  striking  figure 
among  the  young  people  of  her  set.  She  was  tall, 
handsome,  lithe,  a  fine  horsewoman  and  a  graceful 
dancer.  I  have  seen  her  place  her  hands  on  her  hips 
and  lean  backwards  until  she  could  kiss  the  wall  be- 
hind and  recover  herself  without  seeming  effort,  sway- 
ing like  a  flower  on  its  stem.  One  summer  afternoon  in 
1887,  when  Leonard  had  returned  after  graduating  at 
Yale,  I  drove  her  out  to  Thorwald  on  a  sudden  im- 
pulse and  she  stayed  to  dinner.  She  was  then  the 
Duchess  Paul  etc.,  but  as  jolly  as  when  a  girl.  Leonard 
may  remember  that  she  chaffed  him  about  his  saying 
that  in  America  melon  was  eaten  before  the  soup;  and 
how  he  dashed  off  to  the  cellar  and  brought  up  one 
fresh  from  the  ice-box  and  made  her  a  convert  on  the 
spot  to  the  gastronomic  novelty. 

Her  father.  Prince  Hugo  Windischgratz,  was  a  fa- 
mous sportsman.  One  day,  when  we  were  in  Vienna, 
he  invited  us  to  come  and  see  some  bear  cubs  he  had 
brought  back  from  Russia.  The  comical  little  crea- 
tures were  brought  into  a  great  salon  in  the  palace  and 

( 168 ) 


disported  themselves  much  to  our  amusement.  One  of 
them  took  a  fancy  to  your  mother  and  followed  her 
about  persistently.  She  afterwards  used  to  speak 
gravely  of  her  adventure  of  being  chased  by  a  bear  in 
Vienna. 

Upon  a  subsequent  visit  to  Venice,  Countess  Mo- 
cenigo  showed  us  all  her  palace.  It  had  been  occupied 
by  Lord  Byron  for  a  considerable  period.  In  one  room, 
which  had  been  his  study  and  which  she  had  restored 
as  it  was  in  his  time,  she  had  collected  the  furniture  he 
had  used  but  which  had  been  afterwards  scattered 
about  the  palace,  and  upon  his  writing  table  she  had 
placed  a  crucifix.  It  was  the  symbol  of  her  hope  that 
the  wayward  soul  of  this  gifted  poet  had  at  last  found 
peace.  I  wonder  who  reads  Byron  now !  Do  schoolboys 
still  declaim  "The  Isles  of  Greece"?  In  my  boyhood 
his  words  were  on  the  lips  of  all  and  he  was  still  rever- 
enced as  a  hero.  I  remember  dear  old  Mr.  Charles 
Phelps,  whom  you  will  all  recollect,  speaking  of  how, 
as  a  lad,  he  was  thrilled,  at  a  meeting  called  in  Boston 
to  show  sympathy  to  the  Greeks  in  their  struggle  for 
independence,  by  seeing  there  the  helmet  and  sword 
of  Byron. 

On  our  way  we  would  gladly  have  stayed  longer  in 
Rome,  but  after  three  days  I  felt  it  unsafe  to  be  there. 
Your  mother  had  suffered  from  malaria  in  her  child- 
hood, and  in  those  days  we  knew  nothing  of  the  cause 

( 169) 


of  this  disease.  We  went  one  evening  to  see  the  Colos- 
seum by  moonlight  and  had  a  wonderful  view  and  a 
concert  of  screeching  owls  amid  the  splendid  ruins, 
but  the  next  morning  I  noticed  symptoms  of  malaria 
and  so  we  hastened  on  to  Naples.  There,  after  a  few 
days,  we  found  a  steamer  sailing  for  the  Piraeus,  upon 
which  we  engaged  passage,  and  when  v/e  came  on 
board  we  found  two  charming  young  Americans  whom 
we  had  known  in  Dresden  and  whose  society  for  the 
voyage  and  afterwards  in  Athens  and  Constantinople 
was  very  enjoyable. 

In  the  early  morning  we  passed  through  the  Straits 
of  Messina  and  saw  the  vast  pyramid  of  Aetna  gleam- 
ing white  with  recent  snow  and  tossing  a  faint  blue 
plume  against  the  Sicilian  sky.  Round  the  coast  of 
Calabria  reigned  bleak  winter,  where  we  had  fondly 
hoped  to  see  spring,  and  we  came  to  Athens  to  find  the 
palms  killed  by  frost  and  the  oranges  in  the  palace 
gardens  frozen  to  balls  of  ice.  But  who  can  see  Athens 
without  a  great  uplifting  of  the  soul!  It  was  our  first 
vision  of  the  land  to  whose  civilization  Rome  and  our 
own  modern  world  are  so  deeply  indebted,  and  what 
was  left  of  the  relics  of  that  distant  time  was  precious 
in  our  eyes. 

Upon  leaving  Vienna,  the  Duchess  of  Cumberland 
had  given  me  a  letter  to  her  brother,  the  King  of 
Greece,  which  I  presented  at  an  audience  accorded  me 

(  170  ) 


shortly  after  my  arrival.  The  King  was  very  gracious 
and  entertained  me  for  a  considerable  time  by  his 
sparkling  conversation.  He  told  me  of  the  difficulties 
he  had  in  having  a  choir  of  Greek  boys  trained  for  the 
Queen's  chapel.  She  was  a  Russian  archduchess  and 
retained  her  connection  with  her  own  church.  It  was 
supposed  Greeks  could  not  be  taught  to  sing  the  Rus- 
sian service  but,  by  perseverance,  these  boys  learned 
to  do  it  excellently.  He  also  told  me,  being  in  an  eccle- 
siastical mood,  something  about  Russian  religious  art 
and  said,  in  response  to  my  inquiry,  that  it  was  an 
error  to  think  that  Russian  artists  always  painted  the 
Holy  Mother  and  Child  as  of  dark  complexion,  but 
that  it  was  even  more  common  for  them  to  be  repre- 
sented with  European  colouring.  Last  of  all  he  related, 
with  much  enjoyment,  that  the  Emperor  of  Abyssinia 
had  sent  him  a  copy  of  the  Bible,  saying  that  he  had 
heard  that  the  King  of  Greece  was  a  Christian  mon- 
arch and  he  felt  that  they  should  unite  in  upholding 
the  principles  of  their  faith.  The  King  asked  me  also 
what  I  especially  wished  to  do  in  Athens,  and  I  told 
him  I  should  like  to  examine  the  old  Greek  skulls,  but 
that  the  museums  were  now  either  not  open  or  were 
not  catalogued.  Thereupon  he  ordered  one  of  the  royal 
archaeologists  to  arrange  matters  for  me,  and  for  a 
time  I  went  every  day  for  the  purpose  of  examining 
and  measuring  the  skulls,  which  were  regularly  laid 

(  lyi  ) 


out  for  me  to  inspect.  There  were  skulls  even  from  the 
eighth  and  ninth  centuries  B.C.,  but  those  of  such 
great  antiquity  were  not  in  very  good  condition.  As  a 
result  of  my  investigations,  however,  I  was  convinced 
of  the  striking  perpetuity  of  the  Grecian  type.  The 
most  ancient  and  the  most  recent  were  distinctly  of 
the  same  character.  I  was  one  day  shown  the  skulls  of 
the  Albanian  bandits,  of  whom  the  attendant  spoke  as 
being  Greek,  who  had  killed  some  captured  English- 
men a  few  years  before,  and  who  had  finally  been  con- 
demned and  executed.  They  showed  no  trace  of  being 
Grecian  but  were  Slavic  in  character.  At  this  time 
there  were  exhibited  in  Athens  some  of  the  objects 
which  Schliemann  had  found  in  what  he  supposed  to 
be  the  grave  of  Agamemnon.  Among  them  was  a  large 
lower  jaw,  which  I  told  one  of  the  archaeologists  could 
by  no  possibility  be  Greek,  but  that  it  was  distinctly 
Slavic.  Later  the  exact  examination  of  the  skeletons 
which  Schliemann  had  found  showed  them  to  be  not 
only  Slavic,  but  female. 

One  day  the  curator  of  the  museums  laid  out  for 
me  two  skull's  which  had  been  recently  taken  out  of 
a  beautiful  sculptured  sarcophagus  of  the  time  of 
Hadrian  and  which  he  supposed  to  be  of  a  noble  Greek 
lady  and  her  female  slave.  Upon  examination  I  was 
able  to  show  him  that  one  was  Roman,  male  and  of 
vigourous  frame,  very  likely  that  of  a  soldier  and  about 

(  172  ) 


twenty-six  years  of  age.  The  other  was  exquisitely 
Greek,  female  and  about  thirty-four  years  of  age. 
From  this  we  could  construct  a  romance  as  old  as  the 
human  race.  The  curator  then  remarked  that  this 
would  account  for  finding  only  one  set  of  female  orna- 
ments, which  he  then  brought  out.  They  were  of  gold 
and  very  beautifully  wrought. 

I  had  an  interesting  morning  with  the  King's  chief 
physician,  who  took  me  on  his  rounds  over  the  hospi- 
tal. There  was  a  large  class  of  students  with  him  and 
among  these  some  strikingly  classic  heads.  These 
seemed  to  come  chiefly  from  the  Greek  Islands,  where 
the  Greek  blood  has  been  kept  more  pure  than  on  the 
mainland. 

I  was  astonished  to  find  the  cavalry  horse  shod  with 
disks  of  iron  with  a  small  hole  in  the  middle.  The  frog 
and  toe  were  much  cut  away,  so  the  foot  seemed  as  if 
set  on  a  rocker.  A  Bavarian  officer,  who  was  left  over 
from  King  Otto's  time,  told  me,  however,  that  it  was 
the  only  practical  shoe  for  such  a  rocky  country  and 
that  the  dryness  of  the  soil  prevented  thrush,  which 
might  have  been  expected  to  occur  in  a  moister  cli- 
mate with  the  sole  so  completely  enclosed.  In  Turkey 
I  found  horses  shod  in  the  same  way,  and  also  remark- 
ably free  from  injury  to  the  hoof. 

At  last  we  reluctantly  left  Athens  and  sailed  for  our 
goal,  Constantinople.  Con-stan-ti-nople ! 

(  173  ) 


It  is  said  that  there  has  been  constant  and  indeci- 
sive dispute  as  to  which  of  three  cities,  Lisbon,  Naples 
or  Constantinople  has  the  most  beautiful  situation. 
Every  day  during  our  stay  at  Naples,  with  the  splen- 
did bay,  and  Vesuvius  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of 
fire  by  night  before  our  eyes,  we  were  sure  that  no 
other  city  could  be  so  entrancingly  beautiful;  but 
when  we  sailed  through  the  placid  Marmora  and  saw 
the  snow-crowned  Asiatic  Olympus  towering  in  the 
distance  and  the  Golden  Horn  like  an  arm  of  the  sea 
clasping  the  waist  of  the  imperial  city  which  rose  on 
either  side  of  the  Bosphorus,  tier  on  tier  above  her 
palaces  and  domes,  adorned  with  slender  minarets  and 
waving  cypresses,  we  surrendered  at  once  to  her  irre- 
sistible charm. 

If  the  first  glance  was  bewildering,  a  nearer  ac- 
quaintance only  confirmed  our  first  impression.  We 
followed  the  picturesque  brigands  who  took  our  lug- 
gage on  their  backs  and  rapidly  scaled  the  steep  hill  of 
Galata,  which  led  to  the  Hotel  Angleterre,  kept  by 
Missiri.  This  old  dragoman,  who  died  while  we  were 
in  Constantinople,  was  said  to  be  the  last  to  hear  the 
order,  "Let  the  infidel  dogs  be  clothed  and  fed  and 
admitted  to  the  Presence."  It  was  well  into  the  nine- 
teenth century,  I  believe,  that  the  practice  for  Ambas- 
sadors to  be  first  clad  in  an  Eastern  robe,  banqueted 
and  then  led  in  between  two  chamberlains  holding 

( 174 ) 


them  by  the  arms  to  be  presented  to  the  Sultan  was 
endured;  but  when  the  Powers  became  strong  enough 
and  the  Porte  too  weak,  this  offensive  ceremony  was 
abohshed. 

So  soon  as  we  were  settled,  began  days  of  unending 
delight.  It  was  an  enchanted  city.  On  every  hand  were 
scenes  out  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  To  stand  upon  the 
bridge  between  Pera  and  Stamboul  and  see  the  repre- 
sentatives of  all  nations  in  their  native  costumes  pass- 
ing to  and  fro,  is  a  spectacle  nowhere  else  to  be  paral- 
leled. An  atmosphere  of  romance  and  of  mystery  and 
of  intrigue,  personal  and  political,  everywhere  pre- 
vailed and  we  could  soon  understand  how  fascinating 
hfe  must  become  to  anyone  playing  a  part  in  Constan- 
tinople. I  once  met  in  society  a  young  German  press 
agent,  who  had  been  obliged  to  leave  this  city,  since 
the  Government  refused  to  forward  his  dispatches 
and  so  his  occupation  was  gone.  He  was  given  a  more 
lucrative  position  elsewhere  by  his  manager,  but  after 
some  months  had  given  it  up  and  returned  to  Constan- 
tinople, since  he  found  life  anywhere  else  too  tame. 

I  saw  a  few  patients  here,  but  only  those  whom  I 
could  not  refuse,  miserly  of  our  time,  as  there  was  so 
much  to  see  and  enjoy.  These  patients  were  members 
of  several  Embassies:  German,  Austrian,  British  and 
Russian. 

It  interested  me  greatly  to  visit  the  imposing  Ger- 

( 175 ) 


man  Embassy.  It  was  the  latest,  having  been  built 
shortly  after  the  French  war,  and  was  placed  in  a  very 
commanding  position,  designed  to  typify  the  intro- 
duction of  a  new  Great  Power  into  the  complications 
of  the  Eastern  Question.  Only  a  few  months  before  I 
had  been  some  days  in  Berlin  during  the  Congress 
which  revised  the  treaty  of  San  Stefano,  and  saw  the 
delegates  driven  to  and  from  the  palace  of  the  Im- 
perial Chancellor,  and  had  taken  a  great  interest  in 
the  proceedings.  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  German  Government,  in  spite  of  Bismarck's  pos- 
ing as  the  "honest  broker,"  had  the  intention  of  mak- 
ing its  power  felt  in  the  East  and  I  thought  this  would 
be  a  great  aid  in  the  eventual  break-up  of  the  Otto- 
man Empire;  and  therefore  I  saw  in  this  superb  edifice 
suggesting  the  pride  and  power  of  the  new  Germany, 
an  evidence  of  an  influence  which  would,  at  the  right 
time,  be  exercised  efficiently  and  benevolently.  But 
then  I  never  dreamed  that  the  time  could  come  when 
Germany  and  Turkey  would  be  in  armed  alliance. 

It  was  only  a  year  before  our  visit  that  the  victori- 
ous Russian  army  had  stood  before  the  walls  of  Con- 
stantinople. The  passions  roused  by  the  war  had  not 
subsided.  The  city  was  full  of  desperate  characters 
and  alarming  rumours  were  always  in  circulation,  but 
the  foreign  residents  were  used  to  these  conditions  and 
endured  them  tranquilly. 

( 176) 


Shortly  after  our  arrival  we  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  dear  Longs,  with  whom  we  soon  established  an 
intimate  friendship.  Dr.  Long  was  then  a  professor  at 
Robert  College.  He  had  formerly  been  a  missionary  in 
Bulgaria.  He  had  translated  the  Scriptures  into  Bul- 
garian. But  he  was  more  than  a  scholar,  he  was  a  man 
of  wide  intelligence  and  sympathies,  and  therefore  he 
was  respected  and  beloved  wherever  he  was  known. 
His  name  was  a  family  word  in  Bulgaria  and  in  the 
college  there  were  always  a  large  number  of  Bulgarian 
students. 

In  the  spring  of  1876,  at  dead  of  night,  there  came  a 
knocking  at  the  great  gate  of  Dr.  Long's  house.  This 
was  in  the  last  days  of  the  ferocious  Abdul  Aziz.  There 
were  many  dark  deeds  being  done  and  great  anxiety 
prevailed  everywhere.  Dr.  Long  went  cautiously  to 
the  gate  and  asked  who  was  there.  A  terrified  voice 
informed  him  that  it  was  a  Bulgarian  monk  whom  he 
had  formerly  known,  who  came  with  dreadful  tidings. 
He  was  at  once  admitted  and,  in  great  agitation,  he 
told  the  first  story  of  the  Bulgarian  massacres  by  the 
savage  Bashi-Bazouks  and  Turkish  regulars.  The 
monk  had  been  sent  by  his  unfortunate  countrymen 
to  bring  the  news  to  the  only  friend  they  knew  who 
might  be  able  to  help  them,  and  the  account  was  so 
circumstantial  that  Dr.  Long  could  have  no  doubt  of 
its  truth.  The  messenger  had  eluded  the  assassins  and 

(  177  ) 


had  made  his  way  by  night,  lying  concealed  by  day, 
until  he  found  his  friend.  There  had  been  suspicions  of 
some  dreadful  events  having  occurred,  but  this  was  the 
first  definite  news  and  it  rested  upon  Dr.  Long  to  bring 
it  to  the  knowledge  of  the  civilized  world.  His  responsi- 
bility was  great,  for,  were  it  known  that  the  news 
came  through  him,  it  might  easily  bring  about  an  out- 
burst of  fanaticism  which  would  overwhelm  the  col- 
lege and  perhaps  all  the  American  residents.  But  he 
remembered  that  he  was  to  conduct  the  church  serv- 
ices at  the  British  Embassy  on  the  next  Sunday  and 
accordingly,  although  he  knew  that  the  policy  of  the 
British  Government  of  the  day  was  Turcophile,  he 
carefully  prepared  the  case  and  presented  it  to  the 
Ambassador  after  service  was  over,  begging  him  to 
inform  his  Government  or  to  send  an  agent  into  Bul- 
garia to  investigate  the  matter;  but  the  Ambassador 
refused.  The  next  Sunday  Dr.  Long  came  with  a  sec- 
ond list  and  yet  more  detailed  information,  saying: 
"  Your  excellency  has  known  me  now  for  some  years 
and  must  be  aware  that  I  could  not  make  any  state- 
ment which  I  did  not  know  to  be  true,  but,  if  you  are 
in  doubt,  send  an  agent  to  see  if  he  can  find  such  and 
such  villages  and  such  and  such  famihes  which  I  tell 
you  have  been  exterminated."  But  the  Ambassador 
refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  matter.  Later 
he  informed  his  Government  that  the  stories  of  the 

( 178 ) 


massacres  had  been  "monstrously  exaggerated."  A 
Constantinople  correspondent  of  the  London  Times 
was  also  reproved  for  sending  a  letter  regarding  the 
reports,  saying  he  was  not  sent  there  for  such  a  pur- 
pose. But  finally  Dr.  Long  interested  a  young  English 
lawyer,  Mr.  Pears,  now  Sir  Edwin  Pears,  who  had 
come  to  Constantinople  upon  business,  and  induced 
him  to  write  the  historic  letter  exposing  these  awful  • 
crimes.  This  letter  was  published  in  a  Liberal  news- 
paper and  was  read  in  Parliament. 

It  was  this  letter,  and  afterwards  those  of  Mr.  Mac- 
Gahan,  a  young  American  journalist  who  accompanied 
Eugene  Schuyler,  the  secretary  of  legation  sent  by 
the  American  Minister  on  a  mission  of  investigation, 
which  made  the  English-speaking  world  throb  with 
indignant  passion  and  caused  Gladstone's  tremendous 
indictment  of  the  Turkish  Government.  This  was  a 
masterpiece  of  lofty  eloquence,  culminating  in  the 
words  of  Arthur  to  Guinevere: 

The  children  born  of  thee  are  sword  and  fire, 
Red  ruin  and  the  breaking  up  of  laws. 

I  question  if  anything  in  the  long  career  of  Glad- 
stone gave  him  more  lasting  satisfaction  or  added 
more  to  his  reputation  than  the  noble  way  in  which 
he  voiced  the  sentiment  of  enlightened  Christianity  in 
championing  the  cause  of  the  outraged  Bulgarian 
people. 

(  179  ) 


Some  years  afterwards  when  Dr.  Long  was  passing 
through  London  a  friend  took  him  to  the  House  of 
Commons  and  sent  word  to  Gladstone,  who  was  then 
Prime  Minister,  that  Dr.  Long  was  in  the  House. 
Mr.  Gladstone  at  once  sent  begging  Dr.  Long  to  come 
to  his  private  room,  where  he  received  this  guest  with 
great  cordiality. 

Upon  parting  Dr.  Long  said  to  him:  "Mr.  Glad- 
stone, there  are  thousands  of  people  in  Bulgaria  who 
a  few  years  ago  had  never  heard  your  name,  who  now 
every  night  ask  that  the  blessing  of  God  may  rest 
upon  you."  Gladstone's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  he 
grasped  Dr.  Long's  hand  and,  being  unable  to  speak 
from  emotion,  bade  him  a  silent  farewell. 

Schuyler's  irrefutable  report,  being  a  clear  state- 
ment of  the  facts,  made  a  great  impression  both  in 
America  and  in  England  and  doubtless  contributed 
largely  to  the  overthrow  of  the  Beaconsfield  Govern- 
ment. Schuyler  found  that  some  two  hundred  young 
Bulgarians  who  had  been  educated  in  Robert  College 
had  been  imprisoned  and  were  about  to  be  executed 
without  trial.  He  went  to  the  Pasha  and  demanded 
their  release,  which  was  peremptorily  and  scornfully 
refused.  Schuyler  had  no  material  force  behind  him, 
the  only  argument  Turks  usually  understand,  but  at 
last,  through  sheer  pluck  and  audacity,  he  intimidated 
the  Pasha  and  the  young  men  were  set  free.  These  and 

(  i8o) 


other  graduates  of  the  renowned  American  institution 
were  the  very  flower  of  the  Bulgarian  nation  and 
played  a  great  part  in  the  development  of  the  country, 
one  of  them  having  been  Prime  Minister  under  Ferdi- 
nand in  the  first  Balkan  War. 

In  visiting  the  English  cemetery  at  Scutari,  where 
many  of  the  victims  of  the  Crimean  War  are  buried,  I 
rejoiced  to  think  that  Americans  had  borne  some  part 
in  making  another  war  of  Britain  in  defense  of  Turkey 
impossible. 

During  this  visit,  and  in  after  years,  I  came  to 
greatly  admire  and  love  Dr.  Long.  His  was  a  character 
apparently  without  a  flaw.  I  have  seen  him  ministering 
to  many  poor  Turkish  neighbours  who  sought  his  med- 
ical treatment  and  I  wondered  over  his  inexhaustible 
patience  with  their  ignorance  and  helplessness.  In 
passing  through  the  village,  little  Turkish  children 
would  often  dart  out  and  walk  by  his  side,  perhaps 
just  touching  his  garment,  or  sometimes  venturing  to 
take  his  hand,  looking  up  to  him  with  the  trustful  look 
one  sees  in  the  eyes  of  a  dog  glancing  at  his  master.  His 
charities  and  works  of  benevolence  were  unbounded 
and  occasional  evidences  of  ingratitude  only  caused 
him  amusement. 

At  one  time,  during  a  violent  epidemic  of  cholera, 
he  put  his  family  in  a  place  of  safety  in  the  Princes' 
Islands,  and  then  came  every  day  in  the  early  morn- 

(  i8i  ) 


ing  boat  to  Stamboul.  There,  with  only  one  trusty  at- 
tendant, he  worked  among  the  poorer  Turks  who  were 
victims  of  this  dread  disease,  and  for  whom  no  one 
else  would  care,  pulling  them  out  of  their  wretched 
habitations,  washing  them,  giving  them  medicine, 
teaching  them  to  care  for  each  other,  filling  them  with 
hope  and  good  cheer  and  saving  hundreds  of  lives, 
having  in  fact  but  a  small  proportion  of  fatalities 
among  his  patients. 

Exactly  at  twelve  o'clock  he  stopped  his  work  and 
went  to  the  Bible  House  to  lunch  and  rest  for  a  whole 
hour.  At  one  o'clock  he  returned  and  kept  on  until 
just  before  the  six  o'clock  boat  left;  and  then,  no 
matter  how  necessary  it  might  seem  to  be  to  break  his 
rule,  he  sailed  back  to  Princes'  Islands,  bathed  in  the 
sea  and  changed  his  clothes,  dined  with  his  family, 
went  early  to  bed  and  began  the  same  work  the  next 
day.  He  led  this  life  for  three  months,  until  the  epi- 
demic was  over  and  he  could  venture  to  take  his  fam- 
ily back  to  Rumeli  Hissar.  One  day  someone  asked  a 
Turk  if  the  poor  people  of  his  district  were  not  grateful 
to  Dr.  Long  for  his  labour  of  love.  He  answered:  "No, 
he  must  have  been  a  very  wicked  man  and  he  ought 
to  be  grateful  to  us  that  our  illness  made  it  possible  for 
him  to  get  remission  of  his  sins  by  showing  benevo- 
lence to  orthodox  behevers,  the  favourites  of  Allah." 

The  foreigners  in  Constantinople  knew  how  the 

(  182  ) 


Russian  war  was  going  by  the  demeanour  of  the  Mo- 
hammedans, who,  when  they  had  favourable  news, 
were  overbearing  and  insolent,  but  if  the  news  was 
bad,  they  were  correspondingly  obsequious.  When  we 
were  in  Constantinople,  the  subject  races  were  still 
feehng  the  elation  of  the  defeat  of  their  Moslem  mas- 
ter. We  went  frequently  to  Santa  Sophia.  The  Turks, 
upon  making  the  church  into  a  mosque,  had  covered 
with  arabesques  the  mosaics  which  represented  the 
saints,  as  their  religion  did  not  permit  representations 
of  men  whom  Allah  had  made  in  his  own  image.  The 
painting,  however,  had  been  worn,  so  that  the  por- 
traits below  were  beginning  to  show  through,  and  our 
Greek  dragoman  would  chuckle  over  it  and  say :  "You 
see  the  time  is  coming  when  the  church  shall  be  re- 
stored to  us,"  referring  to  an  ancient  legend. 

In  these  times  driving  over  even  what  passed  for  a 
good  Turkish  road  was  not  an  unalloyed  delight  and 
so  I  used  to  ride  about  the  accessible  suburbs  of  the 
city,  upon  one  of  the  clever  little  horses  which  were  to 
be  hired  anywhere.  The  only  precaution  necessary 
was  to  ride  through  or  past  a  group  of  Turks  which 
one  might  encounter  in  the  country,  at  a  smart  pace. 
One  of  my  acquaintances.  Count  Mont-Gallas,  had 
an  adventure  which  illustrates  the  importance  of  some 
precautions.  He  was  a  secretary  of  the  Austrian  Em- 
bassy and  had  been  transferred  from  London  to  Con- 

(  183  ) 


stantinople  at  the  time  when  Austria  and  Great  Brit- 
ain were  pursuing  the  same  policy  in  Turkey.  He  had 
in  his  rooms  at  the  Embassy  a  large  photograph  of 
Beaconsfield  with  a  few  friendly  words  in  the  Prime 
Minister's  handwriting,  reminding  him  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  two  Embassies  working  together.  I  found 
the  young  diplomat  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the 
Turk,  of  whose  honest  and  straightforward  character 
in  contrast  to  that  of  the  oriental  Christian  races  he 
was  never  weary  of  discoursing. 

One  day  he  had  a  message  to  deliver  at  the  Yildiz 
Kiosk  and,  thinking  it  not  necessary  to  take  an  at- 
tendant with  him,  he  rode  to  the  palace  and  left  his 
horse  outside  in  the  care  of  a  soldier.  When  he  re- 
turned from  within,  the  soldier  robbed  him  of  his 
money  and  watch  and  even  stripped  the  family  rings 
from  his  hand  and  sent  him  off  with  threats.  All  com- 
plaints and  attempts  at  redress  proved  futile,  but 
Mont-Gallas's  opinion  of  the  honesty  of  the  Turk  ex- 
perienced a  shock. 

At  last  we  left  Constantinople  for  Odessa,  full  of 
rich  experiences  and  half  wishing  it  might  be  possible 
for  us  to  remain  permanently  in  this  beautiful  city. 

As  we  came  on  board  the  smart  little  Russian  pas- 
senger steamship,  I  saw  on  a  lighter  attached  to  the 
ship  a  beautiful  white  Arab  stallion,  one  of  the  few 
who  are  born  white,  shivering  in  the  cold  wind  which 

(  184  ) 


is  always  blowing  down  the  Bosphorus.  I  regarded 
him  with  great  interest,  for  he  seemed  a  finer  animal 
than  I  had  seen  even  among  the  Sultan's  horses.  At 
last  the  tackle  was  placed  about  the  gentle  creature 
and  he  was  hoisted  up  to  the  deck,  but  the  people  let 
him  down  so  awkwardly  that  he  fell  upon  his  side.  In 
an  instant  the  resentment  at  maltreatment,  which  I 
had  seen  before  in  horses  of  his  blood,  awoke,  and  he 
kicked  off  the  tackle  and  ran  about  the  deck  with  his 
ears  back  and  the  white  of  his  splendid  black  eyes 
shining  in  rage.  I  hastily  ran  down  the  ladder  from  the 
poop,  went  up  to  him  with  soothing  words  and  gently 
laid  my  hand  upon  him;  then  the  Jew  who  had  charge 
of  him  joined  me  and  we  brought  him  into  the  stall 
which  had  been  prepared  for  him  on  the  deck,  com- 
forted and  obedient. 

I  found  the  Jew  spoke  German  and  so  I  ordered  him 
to  put  blankets  on  the  horse.  He  sullenly  answered 
that  the  horse  was  not  his,  that  he  was  only  taking 
him  to  Odessa  and  had  no  blankets.  Then  I  told  him 
to  get  some  of  the  steward,  but  he  asked  who  will  then 
pay  for  them.  I  told  him  I  would  and  called  the  stew- 
ard, ordering  him  to  give  the  Jew  as  many  blankets  as 
necessary  to  make  the  horse  comfortable,  and  stood 
by  until  it  was  done.  All  through  the  voyage  I  visited 
the  horse  from  time  to  time  and  he  watched  for  me 
and  was  grateful  for  my  care.  The  Jew  offered  to  sell 

( 185) 


me  the  horse,  and  thinking  what  a  mate  he  would 
make  for  my  "Box"  I  was  sorely  tempted,  but  refused 
to  consider  it. 

A  day  or  two  after  my  arrival  in  Odessa,  the  Jew 
came  to  see  me  and  said  the  man  to  whom  the  horse 
was  consigned  was  dead  and  so  he  would  sell  me  the 
horse  for  a  really  small  sum,  which  he  named,  and 
could  for  a  small  amount  have  him  sent  to  Dresden. 
Then  I  told  him  I  would  go  with  him  to  look  at  the 
horse,  but  he  urged  it  wasn't  necessary,  since  I  knew 
what  a  fine  horse  he  was  and  I  had  only  to  pay  him 
the  money,  for  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  off,  and  the 
horse  was  mine.  When  I  insisted,  he  added  that  the 
stable  was  far  away  and  very  dark,  but  if  I  would  pay 
beforehand,  he  would  bring  the  horse  to  the  hotel 
stable.  Finding  me,  however,  obdurate,  he  finally  took 
me  to  the  not  very  distant  stable,  where  I  found  the 
poor  beast  dying  of  inflammation  of  the  lungs.  He 
knew  me  and  seemed  glad  to  see  a  friend  once  more. 

The  American  consul  at  Odessa  was  an  old  friend, 
who  had  formerly  been  at  Prague.  He  had  told  a  number 
of  the  important  people  in  Odessa  that  I  was  coming 
and  immediately  I  had  a  large  number  of  them  ask- 
ing me  to  treat  them.  For  about  a  fortnight  I  worked 
tremendously  for  these  grateful  and  appreciative  pa- 
tients and  yet  found  time  to  see  much  of  Odessa  and 
the  neighbouring  country.  I  had  always  found  the 

(i86) 


Russians  I  have  known  especially  sympathetic  and  this 
first  visit  to  Russia  confirmed  my  former  impressions. 
When  the  time  approached  to  depart,  the  consul 
kindly  ofi^ered  to  attend  to  the  formalities  with  the 
police,  who  had  taken  my  passport  in  charge  upon 
landing.  He  presently  returned  looking  rather  puzzled 
and  said  the  police  found  my  wife  was  not  included  in 
the  passport  and  so,  while  I  could  go  out  of  the  coun- 
try all  right,  she  couldn't  accompany  me.  Then  I  re- 
membered that  I  had  written  the  American  Minister 
at  Berlin,  Mr.  Andrew  White,  whom  I  knew,  for  a 
passport  for  us  both,  but  in  the  last  moment  before 
starting,  it  arrived  made  out  only  for  me.  So  I  chanced 
it  and  hitherto  it  had  worked  all  right.  The  consul 
knew  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  but  I  suddenly  re- 
membered that  the  Commandant  of  Odessa,  Baron 
Korfi^,  belonged  to  a  family  whom  I  knew,  and  so  we 
went  to  see  him.  He  was  much  amused  and  said  that, 
while  they  would  be  very  glad  to  keep  Mrs.  Jenkins, 
if  I  insisted  upon  taking  her  she  must  go  under  a 
Russian  pass,  which  he  at  once  made  out.  When  we 
reached  the  last  station  before  the  Roumanian  fron- 
tier, the  passports  were  examined  and  there  was  much 
questioning  about  us.  They  seemed  to  think  that  your 
mother's  ignorance  of  their  language  was  feigned  and 
that  I  was  an  American  eloping  with  a  Russian  wom- 
an, but  they  finally  let  us  through. 

( 187) 


We  had  a  most  interesting  journey  to  Bukarest, 
which  we  found  to  be  a  fine  modern  city  with  a 
marked  Parisian  air.  The  day  after  our  arrival  the 
anniversary  of  the  independence  of  the  country  was 
celebrated  and  we  had  a  rare  opportunity  to  observe 
the  people  who  had  become  famous  for  the  valour  with 
which  they  had  supported  Russia  in  the  recent  war 
with  Turkey.  The  Roumanian  troops  were  very  smart 
and  marched  well.  This  Latin  people  and  language 
were  especially  interesting  to  us  at  this  time  of  na- 
tional pride  and  enthusiasm  and  we  found  we  could 
read  their  newspapers  sufficiently  well  to  get  the  news. 

Fancy  the  delight  of  a  five  days'  journey  in  the 
month  of  June  up  the  Danube  to  Buda-Pest  in  glori- 
ous sunshine  and  through  romantic  scenery,  in  the 
company  of  picturesque  fellow-travellers  of  many 
nations! 

The  air  in  the  dining-room  was  close  and  so  I  told 
the  captain  of  the  Austrian  Lloyd  steamer  that  my 
wife  was,  as  he  could  see,  in  delicate  health  and  I 
begged  permission  to  have  our  meals  served  on  deck. 
This  he  granted,  although  it  was  against  the  rules,  and 
so  we  had  our  table  set  in  the  shadow  of  the  paddlebox 
and  luxuriated  in  good  air,  and  quiet  broken  only  by 
the  panting  of  the  engines  and  the  singing  of  the 
nightingales  which  thronged  the  bushy  banks. 

We  stayed  long  enough  in  Buda-Pest  to  get  some- 

(  i88  ) 


thing  of  the  outward  flavour  of  the  virile  Hungarian 
spirit.  In  Vienna  I  had  seen  Andrassy,  the  Prime  Min- 
ister who  had  arranged  for  the  occupation  of  Bosnia 
and  Herzogovina  the  previous  year  and  who  signed 
the  treaty  of  alliance  between  Austria  and  Germany. 
He  came  several  times  with  members  of  his  family 
who  consulted  me.  In  Buda-Pest  I  gained  admission 
to  Parliament  and,  although  I  could  not  understand 
the  language,  had  occasion  to  admire  the  famed  elo- 
quence of  Magyar  orators  in  the  eulogies  they  were 
pronouncing  over  the  coffin  of  another  Hungarian 
statesman,  the  recently  deceased  Deak. 

At  the  time  I  am  writing,  Berchthold,  the  Austrian 
Prime  Minister  under  whom  this  world-wide  war  be- 
gan, has  been  replaced  by  Burian,  a  Hungarian. 

We  arrived,  after  some  four  months'  journeying,  at 
night  in  Dresden  and,  in  the  morning,  while  patches 
of  sunshine  were  breaking  through  chinks  of  the  win- 
dow blinds  and  the  songs  of  birds  came  in  through  the 
open  windows  from  the  cool  garden,  I  heard  your  tired 
mother  sleepily  and  obliviously  murmur:  "This  is  a 
pretty  good  hotel,  let's  stay  here." 

If  I  have  seemed  prolix  in  my  narration  of  this  jour- 
ney, it  is  because  it  was  to  me  a  veritably  great  event. 
For  nine  years  I  had  been  enjoying  an  international 
practice.  From  the  beginning  I  had  taken  an  academic 
interest  in  European  politics,  heightened  and  made 

(  189  ) 


vital  by  my  acquaintance  with  many  who  played  some 
part  in  the  history  of  the  time.  But  my  views  were 
narrow,  for  I  but  dimly  understood  what  passing 
events  really  meant,  through  ignorance  of  conditions 
and  peoples.  This  journey,  however,  gave  me  a  wider 
vision  and  a  dawning  sense  of  proportions,  which  con- 
stantly added  to  the  interest  and  the  understanding  of 
the  great  drama  which  has  ever  since  been  unroUing 
before  my  eyes. 


i875       Chapter  Nine       1883 

IN  the  middle  of  the  seventies  I  made  my  first  ac- 
quaintance with  Richard  Wagner.  Frau  Cosima 
Wagner  came  first  to  me  as  a  patient,  with  her  chil- 
dren. I  was  much  impressed  by  this  remarkable  wom- 
an. She  was  the  embodiment  of  physical  and  mental 
energy.  Her  tall  form,  her  strong  features,  her  quick 
resolves,  as  firm  as  they  were  intelligent,  her  disdain 
of  obstacles  standing  between  her  and  her  purpose, 
and  the  tact  and  resource  with  which  she  overcame 
them,  revealed  her  at  first  sight  as  a  woman  of  ex- 
traordinary character.  My  first  impression  was  con- 
firmed by  further  acquaintance. 

In  1 877  Frau  Cosima  asked  me  to  go  to  Bayreuth  to 
treat  her  husband.  The  previous  year  had  witnessed 
the  first  representation  at  Bayreuth  of  the  "Nibe- 
lungen  Ring"  and  the  world  was  still  ringing  with 
echoes  of  this  great  musical  and  national  event. 
Wagner  was  unable  to  come  to  me  and  greatly  needed 
certain  treatment,  to  relieve  sufferings  intolerable  to  a 
man  of  his  temperament,  and  accordingly,  although 
I  was  myself  tired  and  overwrought,  I  determined  to 
go;  and  this  was  the  beginning  of  a  friendship  which 
lasted  until  Wagner's  death. 

For  the  first  time  I  had  occasion  to  rejoice  that  I 

( 191 ) 


was  so  unmusical,  for  it  might  well  have  been  that, 
had  I  been  a  musical  enthusiast,  he  would  have  been 
as  bored  by  my  society  as  he  appeared  to  be  by  many 
whom  I  have  seen  trying  to  express  to  him  their  ad- 
miration. As  it  was,  he  accepted  me  as  a  novelty  and 
took  to  me  at  once.  Upon  this  occasion,  and  upon 
other  visits  which  I  made  him,  he  was  with  me  as 
much  as  possible.  We  had  long  walks  together,  con- 
versing upon  all  things  human  and  divine,  barring 
music,  except  that  I  told  him  something  of  the  plain- 
tive character  of  the  music  of  the  American  negroes 
under  slavery,  a  quality  inherent  also  in  the  music  of 
the  Russian  serfs;  but  we  could  not  decide  if  this  were 
due  to  temperament  or  circumstance. 

To  my  great  delight,  I  found  that  he  had  an  ex- 
traordinary sense  of  humour  and  that  he  was  very 
fond  of  amusing  anecdotes,  telling  them  in  a  dry  man- 
ner which  added  much  to  their  piquancy.  We  have 
sat  up  until  late  in  the  night  upon  more  than  one  occa- 
sion exchanging  stories,  he  finding  the  American  jest 
especially  racy;  and,  indeed,  he  had  a  wide  interest  in 
everything  American,  for  he  was  in  theory  a  redoubt- 
able republican,  as  shown  by  his  participation  in  the 
revolution  of  '48  and  in  his  subsequent  indifference  to 
the  blandishments  of  royalties. 

One  evening  Frau  Cosima  was  speaking  of  the  pre- 
vious summer,  when  Bayreuth  was  visited  by  so  many 

(  192  ) 


royal  and  princely  personages  and  all  the  world  be- 
side, and  she  told  how  the  Emperor  of  Brazil,  upon  his 
arrival,  sent  to  ask  Wagner  and  Liszt  to  call  upon  him. 
They  were  both  absent  but  Frau  Cosima  sent  a  verbal 
reply,  saying:  "I  know  positively  that  my  father  will 
go,  but  I  also  know  as  certainly  that  my  husband 
will  not." 

Once  at  dinner  Wagner  asked  me  about  Brigham 
Young,  who  had  recently  died,  and  wished  to  know 
the  secret  of  his  power.  I  told  him  of  the  worldly  posi- 
tion of  the  people  among  whom  the  Mormons  made 
their  converts,  how  ignorant  and  poor  many  of  them 
were,  and  instanced  the  Cornwall  miners,  many  of 
whom  were  converted  and  found  Utah,  which  their 
strong  hands  made  to  blossom  like  the  rose,  an  earthly 
paradise  compared  to  their  former  dismal  home.  Like 
the  followers  of  Mahomet,  they  gained  not  only  the 
assurance  of  heaven,  but  such  blessings  in  this  life  as 
they  were  capable  of  appreciating. 

After  a  httle  time,  Wagner  looked  at  me  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye  which  I  knew  to  presage  a  jeSt,  and 
began  to  speak  gravely  of  his  intention  to  establish  a 
new  religion  as  soon  as  he  finished  "Parsifal,"  which 
he  was  then  composing.  After  the  first  moment,  he 
especially  regarded  another  guest,  a  nephew  by  mar- 
riage and  a  professor  of  mathematics  at  Kiel,  whom  I 
had  already  suspected  of  being  devoid  of  imagina- 

(  193  ) 


tion,  and  began  to  explain  the  details  of  the  new 
enterprise. 

It  was  to  be  founded  upon  a  materialistic  view  of 
Heaven,  like  that  of  Mahomet,  but  there  were  to  be 
also  different  grades  of  heavenly  bhss  and  the  services 
were  to  be  magnificently  choral,  for  musical  art  should 
be  the  means  of  worship  and  the  passport  to  Heaven 
should  be  by  tickets  bought  for  hard  cash  from  the 
priests.  These  tickets,  however,  should  have  some- 
thing of  the  form  of  Papal  indulgences  and  thus  secure 
abundant  income  to  the  church.  They  should  be  also 
hke  railroad  tickets,  which  would  not  carry  the  holder 
beyond  the  place  for  which  they  were  bought,  so  that 
the  pious  soul  should  aspire  through  sacrifice  of  gold 
in  this  life  to  attain  to  the  highest  heaven  in  the  world 
to  come  and  not  be  satisfied  with  a  third-class  ticket, 
which  would  merely  give  him  admittance  to  standing 
room,  as  in  a  theatre.  Then  he  went  on  more  and  more 
fantastically  and  slyly,  noting  the  amazement  of  the 
good  professor,  who  might  well  have  thought  the 
Meister  madj  until  Frau  Cosima  and  I  could  no  longer 
restrain  our  merriment  and  it  began  to  dawn  upon  the 
other  auditor  that  it  was  but  an  extravagant  jest. 

This  side  of  Wagner's  character,  revealed  only  in 
the  "Meistersinger"  among  all  his  works,  may  have 
been  the  source  of  the  many  surprising  stories  which 
were  related  of  him.  I  have  myself  observed  that  the 

(  194  ) 


awestricken  reverence  with  which  some  of  his  wor- 
shippers approached  him  seemed  to  him  fit  subject  for 
raillery,  and  indeed  it  was  sometimes  so  exaggerated 
that  the  temptation  to  turn  it  into  ridicule  must  have 
been  irresistible.  I  remember  a  reception  atWahnfried 
one  evening  in  the  days  of  the  first  public  performance 
of  "Parsifal."  I  had  obtained  an  invitation  for  a  minor 
American  composer,  who  was,  except  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  music,  a  very  sensible  fellow.  He  came  early 
and  I  presented  him  to  Frau  Cosima,  who  was  receiv- 
ing, Wagner  himself  coming  in  only  late  upon  such 
occasions.  My  friend  was  tremulous  with  excitement. 
He  said  to  me  that  this  was  the  most  important  ex- 
perience of  his  life,  he  was  about  to  see  the  two  great- 
est men  in  the  world,  Wagner  and  Liszt. 

When  he  did  see  and  was  presented  to  the  Meister, 
he  was  too  agitated  to  speak  and  was  so  much  moved 
that  I  took  early  occasion  to  shunt  him  into  a  corner, 
where  he  could  slowly  recover.  The  next  day  I  found 
that  the  poor  man  was  suffering  from  a  deep  disap- 
pointment. Being  familiar  with  pictures  which  repre- 
sented only  Wagner's  massive  head,  he  had  expected 
to  find  a  man  of  commanding  stature  and  was  greatly 
distressed  to  find  him  somewhat  less  than  average 
height.  But  I  consoled  him  by  reminding  him  of  Na- 
poleon's diminutive  stature,  as  I  knew  the  Corsican 
was  another  of  his  heroes. 

( 195) 


Upon  one  of  my  visits,  the  brother  of  the  famous 
pianist  Rubenstein  was  at  Wahnfried,  engaged  in 
arranging  the  "Nibelungen  Ring"  for  the  piano.  He 
was  an  interesting  man,  in  a  way.  I  beheve  he  met 
with  a  tragic  fate  before  the  work  was  finished  and 
that  it  finally  appeared  in  the  name  of  Klindworth. 
During  the  visit  it  happened  that  the  family  would  be 
obliged  to  go  out  somewhere  now  and  then,  something 
which  Frau  Cosima  always  regretted,  because,  she 
said,  she  was  unwilling  to  leave  her  husband  even  for 
a  few  hours,  since  all  the  time  she  could  expect  to  be 
with  him  was  so  precious  to  her.  Upon  these  occasions 
I  remained  with  the  Meister,  for  I  did  not  dance  and 
disliked  general  society,  and  these  evenings  were 
among  the  most  delightful  I  have  ever  known.  I  found 
Wagner,  like  all  the  truly  distinguished  men  I  have 
met,  a  most  human  character  with  a  very  wide  range 
of  interests  and  sympathies.  To  talk  with  an  Ameri- 
can, who  knew  nothing  of  music,  was  probably  to  him 
a  rare  experience.  In  any  event,  he  kept  me  up,  even 
after  the  family  had  returned,  talking  familiarly  upon 
many  topics  and  always  impressing  me  with  his  great 
mental  endowments.  In  October  1877,  after  the  adap- 
tation of  the  "Ring"  to  the  piano  was  published,  he 
sent  me  a  splendidly  bound  copy  with  his  autograph 
and  a  JVidmung  in  his  own  handwriting  on  the  flyleaf 
of  the  first  volume. 

( 196 ) 


Icb  sage  nichts  vom  Zahn  der  Zeit^ 
Die  Zeit  des  Zahnes  naht  heran, 
Isi  dann  Herr  Jenkins  nichi  mehr  weit, 
Trotz  ich  die  Zeit  mit  Ihrem  Zahn* 

He  was  unwilling  to  speak  English,  of  which  he  had 
only  a  literary  knowledge,  and  was  accustomed  to  say: 
"  I  speak  English,  but  only  in  the  dialect  of  North 
Wales."  One  day  he  asked  me  the  origin  of  my  name, 
saying  that  it  should  have  a  meaning,  as  German 
names  generally  did.  Then  I  told  him  there  was  once 
a  great  king  in  Wales,  of  whom  the  English  "King 
Cole"  was  but  a  degenerate  copy.  This  king,  whose 
name  was  Jen,  was  a  model  of  all  a  monarch  should 
be,  pious,  learned,  just, generous  and,  above  all,  jovial. 
In  his  court  were  assembled  all  the  great  artists  of  his 
time  and  they  were  more  honoured  than  princes.  His 
happy  subjects  basked  in  the  light  of  his  jolly  coun- 
tenance and  lived  so  happily  under  his  gentle  and 
prosperous  reign,  that,  when  at  last  he  died  childless, 
they  decided  that  no  successor  should  bear  that  be- 
loved name.  Only  when  later  a  man  appeared  who  in 
his  person  and  character  reminded  them  of  their  la- 
mented monarch,  they  called  him  "of  the  kin  of  Jen," 
and  so  originated  the  name  of  Jen-kins. 

The  next  morning  he  gave  me  a  copy  of  Alfred  For- 
man's  alliterative  English  translation  of  the  "Ring," 

*See  Appendix,  note  5. 

(    197    ) 


which  the  author  had  sent  to  the  Meister  and  with 
which  we  had  all  amused  ourselves  the  previous  even- 
ing. It  bore  (I  quote  from  memory,  for  the  book  is  now 
inaccessibly  packed  away)  written  in  Wagner's  hand, 
the  following  inscription : "Translated  in  the  dialect  of 
North  Wales,  in  the  time  of  King  Jen,  forefather  of 
my  noble  friend,  Jenkins." 

There  are  many  legends  which  seem  to  have  an 
equally  stable  foundation. 

I  have  various  other  mementoes  of  the  great  Meis- 
ter which  you  children  will  prize.  Among  them  is  a 
copy  of  Joseph  Rubenstein's  arrangement  for  the 
piano  of  the  great  Festive  March  composed  by  Wag- 
ner for  the  opening  of  the  celebration  in  America  of 
the  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  United  States'  Dec- 
laration of  Independence.  The  flyleaf  of  the  book 
bears  these  words : 

Mein  lieber  Herr  Jenkins  I 

In  Umtausch  unserer  Hoffnungen  rufe  ich  mit  dieser 
freundschaftlicher  Widmung  Ihnen  zu.  Es  lebe  Amerika!* 

Ihr^  Richard  Wagner. 

This  refers  partly  to  a  hope  we  both  entertained  that 
he  might  sometime  visit  America  and  partly  his  sym- 
pathy with  my  belief  that  Europe  would  eventually 
become  republican  and  not  Cossack.  Of  this  composi- 
tion he  told  me  a  characteristic  anecdote.  Der  Fest- 

*See  Appendix,  note  6. 
(    198    ) 


feierfrauenverein  (Woman's  Committee  of  the  Cele- 
bration) had  asked  him  to  compose  a  march  for  the 
occasion,  offering  him  a  handsome  honorarium.  He 
had  consented  but,  burdened  with  other  duties,  had 
neglected  this  work.  At  last,  rather  late,  he  began  to 
occupy  himself  with  it  and,  as  he  worked  and  thought 
what  a  century  of  republican  government  in  America 
meant  to  the  world,  the  importance  of  the  occasion 
grew  upon  him  and  he  finished  it  in  a  state  of  exalted 
enthusiasm.  He  cabled  to  America  that  the  work  was 
ready  but  received  no  reply.  After  a  time  he  thought 
that  perhaps  it  might  be  too  late  for  its  purpose  and 
was  sorely  disappointed.  Being  in  Berlin  one  day,  he 
therefore  took  the  score  to  the  American  legation,  but, 
as  the  Minister  was  absent,  he  was  obliged  to  explain 
the  situation  to  a  secretary. 

Wagner's  speech  was  not  always  clear,  for  often  the 
thoughts  were  too  rapid  for  the  tongue;  but,  in  his  tem- 
pestuous manner,  he  tried  to  make  plain  the  history 
of  the  work  and  that  he  was  so  proud  of  the  honour  of 
composing  the  March  for  this  occasion,  that  he  was 
quite  willing  to  renounce  the  fee  which  had  been  prom- 
ised him,  if  only  the  March  could  quite  certainly  be 
accepted  and  performed.  He  showed  the  secretary  the 
motto,  taken  from  Goethe,  which  prefaced  the  score. 

Nur  der  verdient  sich  Fi-eiheit  wie  das  Leben 
Der  taglich  sie  erobern  muss. 

(   199  ) 


Whereupon  the  secretary  burst  out:  "Sir,  do  you  mean 
to  say  that  the  American  people  intend  to  rob  you !  "* 

Poor  Wagner  gave  up  his  explanation  as  hopeless, 
but  upon  returning  home  to  Bayreuth  found  a  com- 
munication from  the  Committee  which  was  in  every 
way  satisfactory,  as  it  provided  that  the  March  should 
be  accepted  and  performed  and,  moreover,  the  fee  he 
was  so  willing  to  renounce  was  paid  by  cable. 

After  Wagner's  death  another  memento  was  given 
to  your  mother  by  Frau  Cosima,  with  a  letter  dated 
June  20,  1888.  She  wrote:  "I  put  also  some  engrav- 
ings, French  ones,  which  have  now  got  so  rare  that 
they  are  no  more  to  be  bought  and  from  which  I  would 
be  very  glad  if  Mrs.  Jenkins  would  accept  them  from 
me.  Perhaps  the  fact  that  they  have  been  for  many 
years  in  Wahnfried's  library  will  be  able  to  size  their 
worth.  .  .  .  Mr.  Latour  belongs  to  the  impressionists 
in  France,  and  his  great  picture  of  the  Wagnerians  in 
Paris  made  a  great  noise  there." 

We  knew  the  value,  actual  and  sentimental,  of 
these  engravings,  for  they  had  been  presented  to  Wag- 
ner by  the  artist  upon  the  first  representation  of  the 
"Ring"  at  Bayreuth  and  I  had  often  seen  and  admired 
them  hanging  in  the  great  library. 

We  did  not  like  to  accept  them,  thinking  they 
ought  to  remain  in  the  Wagner  family,  but  Frau 

*  See  Appendix,  note  7. 
(    200   ) 


Cc^.  ^.A ,.UU^  9<^-.  .^J  '£_J.^ 


lyV^^^-.^XJC\^yLJ^^-->---^     .        Wfl     -^X^  'x,^^>4^    -U^/^^^        ^v-,^    (C'-^ 


Cosima  was  so  persistent  that  it  was  impossible  to 
refuse.  You  will  all  remember  how  they  have  hung  in 
our  library  for  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

I  was  always  greatly  impressed  by  Frau  Wagner's 
devotion  to  her  husband.  She  cared  for  him  with 
motherly  tenderness  and  wifely  tact.  She  stood  be- 
tween him  and  every  annoyance.  There  were  innum- 
erable practical  questions  constantly  demanding  at- 
tention, visits  from  the  mayor  or  some  committee,  or 
from  aspiring  artists,  or  from  builders  and  architects, 
and  with  all  of  them  she  made  every  way  smooth  and 
sent  them  off  contented,  without  a  thought  of  troub- 
ling the  Meister  himself.  All  the  while  he  would  be  in 
his  study,  working  undisturbed,  singing  from  time  to 
time,  or  darting  to  the  piano  and  striking  the  keys 
again  and  again,  and  then  falling  into  silence  while 
rapidly  writing  his  score.  He  seemed  to  work  with 
great  concentration  of  thought,  but  when  he  had  fin- 
ished he  was  as  light-hearted  as  a  child.  His  wife  was 
so  familiar  with  his  needs  that  she  always  chose  just 
the  right  moment  and  exactly  the  right  tone  and  the 
best  form  of  words  to  present  to  him  any  question 
upon  which  his  decision  was  necessary,  with  the  result 
that  everything  seemed  easily  accomplished  with  the 
least  possible  friction  or  disturbance. 

In  1878  I  received  from  Wagner  a  remarkable  let- 
ter. At  that  time  he  had  become  discouraged  at  not 

(  201  ) 


having  the  assurance  of  being  able  to  carry  out  his 
plans  for  perpetuating  his  temple  of  art  at  Bayreuth 
and  fancied  he  might  be  able  to  find  the  support  he 
longed  for  by  going  with  his  works  to  settle  perma- 
nently in  America,  and  that  I  could  help  him  to  realize 
such  a  plan.  It  was,  of  course,  wildly  impractical,  but 
it  was  a  deHcate  matter  to  convince  him  that  it  would 
be  unwise.  We  went  to  Constantinople  by  way  of 
Naples  expressly  to  talk  with  him  and  Frau  Cosima 
and  found  they  were  so  full  of  illusions  as  to  the  con- 
ditions in  America  that  arguments  against  this  plan 
had  no  force.  During  the  next  year,  however,  it  was 
possible,  through  the  aid  of  a  few  of  the  great  Meis- 
ter's  friends  and  enemies  in  America,  to  make  it  plain 
that  the  place  for  his  great  triumph  was  in  his  own 
country  and  among  his  own  people,  and  I  rejoiced  that 
that  end  was  attained  without  a  cloud  resting  upon 
our  friendship.* 

Your  mother  and  I  were  invited  to  attend  the  first 
performance  of  "Parsifal"  on  July  26,  1882.  It  was, 
even  to  me,  a  very  great  event.  By  nature  I  have  a 
love  of  poetry,  as  well  as  for  colour  and  meaning  in 
painting,  but  my  profession  has  been  so  absorbing 
that,  despite  all  my  advantages,  I  have  been  unable  to 
cultivate  the  fine  arts  to  the  extent  of  my  limited  ca- 
pacity. But  music  has  always  bee^  a  sealed  book  to 

*See  Appendix,  note  8. 
(   202  ) 


Am  26.  imd  28.  Juli 

fijr  die  Mitglieder  des  Patronat-Vereins, 

am  30.  Juli,  1.  4. 0. 8. 11. 13. 15. 18. 20. 22. 25. 27. 29.  Aug.  1882 
offentliche  Auffiihrungen  des 

PARSIFAL. 

lin  Biihnenweihfestspiel  von  RICHARD  WAGNER. 


Personen  der  Handlung  in  drei  Aufeiigen: 


Amfortas 
Tifurel 


Gurnemanz 


Parsifal 


Klingsor 


Hcrr  Rpichmann. 

,     Kindcrmann 

„     Scnrix 
„     Siehr. 

„     Winkclni.inn. 

fluili'lius. 
,     .lilgcr. 

„     Uill. 
,     Fuchs. 


Kundry 


Erster 
Zweiter 

Erster 
Zweiler 
Orilter 
Vierter 


Gralsritier 


Knappe 


Klingsor's  Zaubermadchen: 

Seclis  Binzcl  -  Sttniierinnen : 


I.  (JnipiK' 


II.  Gruppc 


Frau  Maleina. 
Frauloin  Biaiult. 

MnlU'n. 

Hcrr  Fuchs. 
,     Stumiif. 

FriUiloin  U.ilfj'. 
Kcil. 
IIonvonHlUilxnict 
Mikorey. 

'^Ilnloin   Hoi'son. 

Pringlp. 
Andrd. 
.       OMfy 
BpIcp, 


und  Sopran  und  Alt  in  zwei  ChOrcn,  24   P.inion. 
Die  BriJderschafi  der  Gralsritter,  Jiinglinge  und  Knaben. 


Ort  der  Ilnndliing: 

Aiif  (Icm  Gcbietc  nnd  in   der  Btrrg   dor  OralsliUtor   „Moiisalval" ,   Go-end   im  Cliarakter   dor   nfndliclion  G.'hirgc  des 

giilliischcn  Spanicns.  -   Sodaiin    Klingsor's  Zaubcrsohloss,    am  Sild.abhangc  dcrsdbcn  GobirRO,    doni  arabisclion  Spanicn 

zugowandt  anzunebmen. 


BeRian  des  ersten    Aufzngs    4     Uhr. 
„       „    zweiten     „         6 '/a    .. 
„    dritteu       „         8V2    „ 


sBa«%w!aw«'53*«5?^ 


me.  I  had  often  said  that  I  would  rather  have  written 
any  one  of  the  world's  great  poems  than  all  the  music 
of  all  time.  You  children  will  remember  what  a  trial 
I  have  been  to  you  at  the  opera,  because  the  music 
which  you  enjoyed  so  much  became  to  me,  after  the 
first  half  hour,  only  unmeaning  and  almost  unendur- 
able noise.  But  the  performance  of  "Parsifal"  was  not 
opera;  it  was  a  mystical  musical  drama,  composed  by 
a  great  genius  and  performed  by  famous  artists  in- 
spired by  religious  enthusiasm.  At  this  first  represen- 
tation there  were  present  musical  celebrities  from  all 
the  world,  as  well  as  an  immense  number  of  Wagner's 
devoted  disciples.  The  whole  town  had  an  aspect  of 
solemnity,  which  was  as  impressive  as  it  was  genuine, 
for  everyone  felt  himself  participating  in  a  great  his- 
torical event;  but  the  audience  in  the  theatre  was  in 
the  mood  of  a  congregation  in  a  cathedral  engaged  in 
celebrating  High  Mass  upon  some  famous  national 
occasion.  Although  the  audience  had  been  requested 
not  to  applaud,  there  was,  after  the  first  act,  a  spon- 
taneous outburst  of  delight,  but  it  was  instantly  sup- 
pressed when  the  Meister,  leaning  over  from  his  box, 
entreated  the  audience  not  to  disturb  the  illusion.  I 
can  recall  nothing  of  the  close,  I  do  not  remember  if 
we  applauded  or  not,  for  even  like  those  who  had  the 
ability  to  understand  the  music,  I  was  overwhelmed 
with  the  sublime  effect  of  this  magnificent  drama. 

(  203  ) 


Throughout  all  my  acquaintance  with  Wagner  I 
had  been  more  and  more  impressed  by  his  intellectual 
greatness.  He  was  a  man  apart  from  all  others  in  mind 
and  purpose.  I  came  to  understand  the  passionate  de- 
votion he  received  from  his  true  disciples,  to  whom 
any  faults  he  may  have  had  seemed  of  no  account  in  a 
genius  so  lofty  and  with  aims  so  noble  and  I  rejoice  to 
possess  for  myself  a  flawless  memory  of  this  remark- 
able man. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  February,  1883,  Wagner  sud- 
denly died  at  Venice.  On  the  morning  of  that  day  his 
son,  Siegfried,  who  had  been  under  my  treatment, 
wrote  me  a  letter,  enclosing  some  small  article,  and  he 
sealed  it  five  times,  using  his  father's  seal.  This  is 
probably  the  last  time  it  was  ever  used.  Four  of  these 
seals  I  have  given  as  souvenirs  to  friends,  but  one  has 
been  still  preserved. 

We  were  to  have  seen  the  Wagners  in  Venice  that 
very  spring. 


i883         Chapter  Ten         1885 

IN  these  years  we  went  regularly  to  Italy  for  a  little 
rest  and  change,  after  my  season  in  Vienna.  Nora 
and  Grace  will  remember  a  lovely  journey  we  once 
made  to  Abbazia  and  the  Dalmatian  coast. 

It  was  our  first  experience  of  a  long  journey  with 
Grace  and,  of  course,  it  was  therefore  eventful,  but 
fortunate.  When  we  got  to  the  Siidbahn  we  found  peo- 
ple had  got  into  the  compartment  reserved  for  us.  I 
appealed  to  the  station  master  and  demanded  that  he 
comply  with  the  law  and  give  us,  for  our  four  first- 
class  tickets,  a  compartment  to  ourselves.  He  said 
there  was  such  an  unexpected  rush  of  travel,  that  they 
couldn't  delay  the  train  just  at  the  time  of  starting 
and  put  on  another  car,  but  if  I  would  only  be  patient 
until  the  next  station,  he  would  telegraph  to  have  an 
observation  car  put  on  for  me  there.  Accordingly  from 
there  on  we  had  this  whole  corridor  car  to  ourselves 
and  both  Grace  and  I  had  room  enough  for  once. 
Shortly  after  we  started,  however,  while  Grace  was 
romping  in  the  corridor,  she  backed  up  against  one  of 
the  side  doors,  which,  to  my  horror,  swung  open,  and 
Grace  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  burly  conductor,  who 
was  coming  unseen  through  the  door  from  the  running 
board  below  to  examine  the  tickets.  With  several 

(  205  ) 


other  doors  to  lean  against,  it  was  characteristic  that 
she  should  have  chosen  that  one  and  should  have  still 
escaped  all  injury.  We  stayed  over  for  a  few  days  at 
GraZj  where  I  was  to  see  the  Duchess  of  Schleswig- 
Holstein,  the  mother  of  the  present  [1916]  Empress 
of  Germany,  who  was  ill  and  could  not  come  to  me 
at  Dresden  that  year  as  usual;  and  there  too  we  had 
no  end  of  fun  with  Grace's  adventures  and  queer 
sayings. 

And  what  a  journey  it  was  from  Fiume  to  Ragusa! 
The  night  before,  your  dear  mother  suffered  torments 
of  anxiety  regarding  Grace,  lest  she  should  be  unequal 
to  the  journey,  for  the  child  had  been  ill,  and,  up  to 
the  last  moment  before  the  ship  sailed,  it  was  uncer- 
tain if  we  might  venture  to  sail.  But  half  an  hour  after 
starting  Grace  was  running  all  over  the  ship,  as  well 
as  ever.  Those  were  the  days  when  a  journey  down 
that  romantic  coast,  and  excursions  into  the  interior, 
had  a  touch  of  adventure  such  as  one  rarely  finds  in 
these  more  sophisticated  times,  but  we  were  pre- 
vented from  carrying  out  our  plan  of  going  from  Cat- 
taro  to  Cettinje  by  reason  of  the  deep  snow  in  the  Mon- 
tenegrin mountains.  We  had  great  days  at  Zara,  where 
I  sought  out  Girolamo  Luxado,  he  of  a  name  as  deli- 
cious as  the  Maraschino  he  manufactures,  with  the 
flavour  of  which  all  you  children  are  familiar.  At  Se- 
benico  we  made  an  excursion  into  the  country,  where, 

(  206  ) 


in  the  village  where  we  stayed  for  lunch,  only  one  soli- 
tary policeman  could  be  found  who  spoke  German 
and  the  inn  was  like  a  mediaeval  robber  stronghold.  In 
Spalato  we  roamed  over  the  vast  remains  of  Diocle- 
tian's palace  and  wondered  at  the  once  prodigious 
power  and  wealth  of  Rome.  At  Ragusa,  upon  our  de- 
parture, we  witnessed  an  enthusiastic  crowd  taking 
leave  of  their  newly  appointed  deputy  to  the  Austrian 
Parliament  who,  coming  on  board  our  ship,  proved 
to  be  Count  Bonda,  a  man  I  had  previously  known 
and  who  had  estates  in  this  beautiful  country. 

Then  came  our  return  to  Trieste,  where  we  visited 
Miramar,  the  beautiful  chateau  of  the  unfortunate 
Maximilian,  and  then  followed  our  journey  to  Venice 
by  sea,  where  we  saw  the  lovely  city  in  the  early 
morning  light  rising  from  the  lagoon,  "the  seaweed 
clinging  to  her  marble  palaces." 

I  hope  Nora  and  Grace  will  not  forget  that,  on  this 
their  first  visit  to  Venice,  the  Winged  Lion  of  St. 
Mark's  had  been  taken  down  from  its  lofty  granite 
column  for  some  repair,  and  how  I  took  them  into  the 
enclosure  and  caused  them  to  tweak  him  by  the  tail, 
that  on  subsequent  visits  they  might  feel  that  they 
had  a  peculiarly  intimate  acquaintance  with  this  fa- 
mous monument. 

Your  mother  and  I  saw  the  Riviera  for  the  first 
time  in  the  early  eighties,  before  this  beautiful  region 

(  207  ) 


had  become  vulgarized  by  modern  hordes  of  visitors. 
In  these  days  we  drove  in  a  carriage  from  "  Genoa  the 
Superb"  to  Nice,  having  abundant  opportunity  to 
dawdle  by  the  way,  unchecked  by  the  dust  of  autos. 
Shut  in  as  Genoa  is  by  high  mountains,  one  can  easily 
imagine  the  youthful  Columbus  gazing  out  to  sea  and 
wondering  what  might  be  beyond,  until,  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  surroundings,  he,  not  only,  like  so 
many  of  his  countrymen,  became  a  mariner,  but  also 
trained  his  mind  and  kept  his  imagination  vivid  and 
his  soul  strong  for  the  time  when  he  accomplished  the 
great  voyage,  the  story  of  which  is  destined  to  thrill 
mankind  forever. 

But  our  delightful  journey  was  not  all  romance  and 
poetry.  When  we  reached  Nice  we  found  old  acquaint- 
ances who  were  engaged  in  personal  quarrels,  in  which 
they  desired  to  enlist  our  unwilling  sympathy;  and,  as 
welcome  diversion,  we  were  sought  out  by  an  enter- 
prising American  business  man.  He  darted  upon  me  in 
the  hotel  parlour  and  told  me  he  had  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  me  from  Cousin  Joe  Folsom  and  that  he 
would  deliver  it  in  Dresden  some  weeks  later.  He  was 
just  leaving  Nice,  after  a  few  hours'  stay  and  was  mak- 
ing a  hasty  tour  of  Europe  in  the  interest  of  the  Mason 
and  Hamlin  Organ  Manufacturing  Company,  having 
young  Mr.  Mason,  a  charming  American  boy,  with 
him.  He  told  me  that  sometimes  they  "did"  two  or  three 

(  208  ) 


cities  in  a  day,  his  plan  being  to  have  the  local  agent 
of  the  company  meet  him  at  the  railroad  station  and  at 
once  be  driven  about  the  town  and  talk  business  while 
seeing  the  sights.  I  found  later  that  he  actually  did,  in 
this  hurried  manner,  both  see  and  appreciate  many  of 
the  famous  sights,  for  his  mind  was  as  active  as  his 
body.  One  evening  they  came  to  dine  with  us  in  Dres- 
den and  he  told  me  of  his  experiences  at  the  Vatican. 
After  his  usual  plan,  the  agent  of  the  company  drove 
him  about  assiduously  and  managed  to  get  admission 
to  the  Vatican,  although  it  was  then  not  open  to  the 
public.  The  functionary  who  was  showing  them  about 
at  one  point  waved  his  hand  and  said : "  In  this  portion 
of  the  palace  lives  His  Holiness  the  Pope."  Mr.  C. 
whipped  out  his  card  and  said:  "Send  my  card  to 
him."  The  official  was  properly  shocked  and  protested 
that  it  was  impossible,  but  Mr.  C.  insisted  that  a  mes- 
sage from  him  should  be  sent  to  the  Pope.  "Tell  His 
Holiness  that  we  have  in  our  factory  six  hundred  de- 
vout Roman  Catholic  workmen  and  I  beg  him  to  give 
me  an  equal  number  of  those  little  medals  which  are 
sent  out  with  the  blessing  of  His  Holiness."  And  he 
actually  accomplished  his  purpose  and  received  the 
medals.  He  told  us  that  he  meant  to  keep  them  and 
whenever  a  Roman  Catholic  church  or  convent  or- 
dered a  Mason  and  Hamlin  organ,  they  would  get  it 
with  the  special  benediction  of  the  Pope;  and  he  added 

(  209  ) 


that  he  believed  he  was  the  only  man  in  Europe  who 
could  utilize  the  Pope  for  business  purposes. 

Leonard  had  been  sent  to  the  Vitzthum  Gymna- 
sium at  an  early  age,  but  he  was  not  enamoured  of 
German  life,  notwithstanding  he  had  been  born  in 
Germany.  It  pleased  me  to  observe  how  American  he 
was  in  sentiment,  for  I  did  not  wish  him  to  make  a 
career  abroad.  It  was  well  enough  for  his  parents  to 
enjoy  Europe,  but  all  my  instincts  and  convictions 
were  against  Europeanizing  the  family.  But  I  was 
much  puzzled  as  to  what  direction  should  be  given  to 
his  education.  He  had  no  marked  tastes  for  any  occu- 
pation and  a  somewhat  frail  constitution  indicated  a 
profession  as  being  unsuited  to  him.  He  had, moreover, 
a  practical  turn  of  mind  and  a  good  deal  of  self- 
reliance.  I  had  been  much  impressed  with  the  solid 
value  of  large  European  agricultural  estates  and  the 
useful  and  agreeable  lives  of  their  owners,  and  often 
asked  myself  if  it  would  not  be  possible  to  carry  on 
such  enterprises  in  America,  with  the  boundless  ex- 
tent of  good  and  cheap  land.  The  only  obstacle  seemed 
to  be  lack  of  labour  and  this,  I  thought,  might  be  sup- 
plied by  selecting  European  peasant  families  who 
were  fit  for  emigration  and  settling  them  on  a  large 
estate  from  which,  in  time,  the  labourers  would  receive 
farms  of  their  own,  paid  for  in  labour.  It  would,  of 
course,  be  a  large  undertaking  but,  considering  how 

(210) 


much  time  was  lost  by  agricultural  immigrants  before 
they  could  get  established,  it  appeared  to  me  that  a 
scheme  which  started  such  labourers  comfortably  and 
gave  them  a  certainty  of  eventually  owning  a  part  of 
the  land  they  tilled,  while  leaving  a  large  central  es- 
tate unimpaired,  might  be  a  happy  mingling  of  feudal 
and  modern  methods.  Every  man,  woman  and  child 
in  a  peasant  family  could  be  employed  on  a  great 
estate  with  mixed  farming  and  other  interests,  and 
they  could,  under  intelligent  management,  be  made  to 
form  an  ideal  community.  I  talked  these  plans  over 
with  Leonard  and,  boy  as  he  was,  they  interested  him. 
I  had  a  considerable  correspondence  with  America 
about  it,  but  no  one  seemed  to  understand  the  plan. 
At  last,  however,  I  determined  to  send  Leonard  to 
Sheffield  Scientific  School  at  Yale  and  to  decide  after 
the  first  year  what  direction  his  future  studies  should 
take.  Handsome  and  capable  Edith  Virgin  took  him 
in  hand  and  coached  him  in  mathematics,  in  which 
they  were  not  strong  at  Vitzthums,  and  in  the  autumn 
of  1884  we  sent  him  to  America. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year,  however,  I  took  him  with 
us  on  our  annual  visit  to  Vienna.  One  day  our  friend, 
Mr.  Power,  one  of  the  old-time  capable  Indian  civil 
officials  (he  raised  a  company  of  civil  servants  at  the 
time  of  the  Mutiny  and  marched  them  to  the  relief  of 
Lucknow),  took  the  boy  to  the  Mausoleum  of  the 

(211) 


Austrian  Emperors.  He  came  back  chilled  and  ran  up 
to  his  mother  and  kissed  her.  The  next  day  he  went 
back  to  Dresden  and  after  a  time  we  learned  that  he 
had  been  taken  ill  with  a  mild  attack  of  diphtheria  on 
the  same  day  and  hour  as  his  mother  in  Warsaw.  They 
both  recovered  at  the  same  time  and  they  both  had  a 
relapse  on  the  same  day,  he  in  Dresden  and  she  in 
Odessa. 

We  went  to  Warsaw  on  our  way  to  Constantinople 
and  we  stayed  there  for  a  few  weeks  while  I  treated 
some  old  patients.  From  Warsaw  we  journeyed  to 
Kief,  the  holy  city  where  the  Russians  first  became 
Christians,  and,  after  having  been  sufficiently  cursed 
as  infidels  by  some  of  the  numerous  pilgrims  who 
come,  often  under  great  privations,  to  visit  the  an- 
cient city  of  churches  and  relics  of  saints,  we  came  on 
to  Odessa.  I  had  a  plan  of  going  to  the  Crimea  and  the 
Caucasus,  but  your  mother's  illness  made  it  impracti- 
cable. As  Odessa  had  a  trying  climate,  I  determined 
to  go  on  to  Constantinople,  since  I  knew  the  condi- 
tions there,  and  wished  to  go  as  soon  as  possible.  On  a 
Wednesday  morning  my  old  Jew  dragoman  informed 
me  that  a  French  steamer  would  sail  on  Friday  but, 
as  a  fearful  storm  was  raging,  I  expressed  a  fear  that 
the  Black  Sea,  which  has  a  shocking  reputation  for 
roughness,  would  not  be  calm  enough  in  two  days  to 
venture  a  journey  with  an  invalid.  He  solemnly  re- 

(  212  ) 


plied:  "Sir,  a  great  many  things  can  happen  before 
Friday."  This  has  been  a  proverb  with  us  ever  since, 
for,  when  I  carried  your  mother  on  board  the  ship  on 
Friday  morning,  the  sea,  ghttering  under  brilliant 
sunshine,  was  as  quiet  as  a  millpond  and  in  about 
half  an  hour  the  irrepressible  invalid  was  capering 
about  the  deck. 

We  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  the  Bosphorus  in  a 
fog.  The  French  captain  said  to  the  only  other  pas- 
senger, a  Scotsman  who  had  for  twenty  years  com- 
manded a  steamer  sailing  from  Liverpool  to  Mel- 
bourne, "What  a  pity  the  rules  of  the  company  have 
obliged  me  to  drop  anchor;  otherwise  I  would  go  in, 
for  I  know  the  way  perfectly — there  is  the  entrance — " 
pointing  with  his  finger.  "You  would  lose  your  ship  if 
you  tried  it,"  said  the  Scot;  "my  eyes  have  been 
trained  on  the  great  ocean  and  I  can  see  that  the  ship 
is  pointed  towards  the  false  entrance."  The  French- 
man laughed  him  to  scorn,  but  presently  the  fog 
lifted  and  there  before  us  lay  the  deceptive  reefs  upon 
which  so  many  deluded  mariners  have  been  ship- 
wrecked. 

We  went  to  stay  at  Rumeh  Hissar  with  Dr.  Long 
and  his  family,  where  we  had  a  delightful  visit  and  I 
saw,  in  being  for  a  time  his  guest,  what  a  useful  and 
beneficent  life  this  eminent  man  led.  Every  morning 
there  would  be  numerous  poor  people,  mostly  Turks, 

(  213  ) 


who  came  to  seek  his  medical  advice  and  it  was  touch- 
ing to  see  their  confidence  in  his  wisdom  and  his  un- 
faihng  patience  with  their  ignorance.  I  visited  his 
classes  and  heard  him  instruct  his  pupils  and  was  wit- 
ness of  the  unselfish  devotion  which  he  and  the  other 
professors  displayed  in  their  work. 

We  went  to  Broussa  with  Dr.  Long  and  his  daugh- 
ter Mary,  where  we  passed  a  few  perfect  days.  The 
country  was  being  furbished  up  for  the  approaching 
visit  of  the  Crown  Prince  of  Austria.  Among  other 
preparations,  the  long-neglected  road  from  Mudania 
to  Broussa  was  being  repaired.  There  were  thousands 
of  refugees  from  Bulgaria  and  the  Caucasus  at  work 
upon  the  road.  Many  of  them  were  paid  off  before  our 
hotel  one  evening  and  we  had  opportunity  to  see  these 
fine,  sturdy  fellows  in  their  picturesque  costumes  the 
colours  of  which  were  softened  by  wear  and  exposure. 
A  European  seems  unable  to  combine  striking  colours 
with  the  sure  touch  of  the  Oriental.  This  is  well  illus- 
trated in  Eastern  raiment,  in  which  colors  are  often 
arranged  in  defiance  of  our  conventional  rules,  but 
with  harmonious  results.  I  well  remember  in  Broussa 
a  young  Nubian  slave  returning  from  market.  He  wore 
a  bright  red  fez,  white  gaiters  and  yellow  shoes,  and 
bore  a  white  goose  upon  the  left  arm  of  his  long  ma- 
roon-coloured robe.  One  day  we  found  a  negro  minstrel 
in  the  bazaar  who  had  come  from  Bagdad,  but  with  a 

(214) 


three-stringed  lute  instead  of  "a  banjo  on  his  knee." 
He  spoke  only  Arabic,  but  when  he  threw  his  head  on 
one  side  and  tapped  time  with  his  foot  while  singing 
"ya,  ya,  ya,"  I  could  have  fancied  myself  in  Virginia. 
Dr.  Long  was  a  numismatist  and  dealers  often  con- 
sulted him.  At  the  bazaar  in  Broussa  one  day  a  dealer 
showed  him  a  small  gold  coin  stamped  with  a  horse's 
head.  I  wanted  to  buy  it,  but  Dr.  Long  thought  it 
better  to  wait  until  he  could  find  out  what  it  was.  Un- 
fortunately we  had  no  time  to  return  and  examine  the 
coin  again,  but  a  week  afterwards  we  went  to  see  the 
treasures  of  an  Armenian  dealer  in  Constantinople, 
a  friend  of  Dr.  Long,  and  told  him  about  the  coin.  He 
at  once  said  it  was  a  coin  of  Carthage,  very  rare  and 
valuable,  which  caused  dear  Dr.  Long  much  chagrin. 
This  Armenian  had  inherited  from  his  father  five  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  Turkish.  He  had  put  it  all  into 
old  coins  and  precious  stones.  He  met  us  by  appoint- 
ment in  what  seemed  to  be  a  well-preserved  ruin.  He 
brought  us  to  a  massive  door  in  the  wall,  which  he  un- 
locked and  led  us  through  winding  passages  and  sev- 
eral doors  protected  by  strong  locks,  until  we  came 
into  a  large  room,  seemingly  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth,  artificially  lighted.  Here  were  several  modern 
safes,  some  of  which  he  opened  and  showed  us  many 
treasures.  I  was  looking  for  a  stone  of  unusual  charac- 
ter for  your  mother,  and  finally,  through  this  man,  I 

(215) 


found  it.  It  was  a  ruby  spinel,  which,  when  I  bought 
it,  had,  Hke  most  spinels,  some  flaws;  but  after  re- 
turning home  I  sent  it  to  Amsterdam  to  have  it  recut 
and  it  returned  smaller  but,  to  my  mind,  the  most 
beautiful  of  stones,  its  flaws  all  being  eliminated  and 
the  colour  adding  to  its  brilliancy,  for  it  has  the  crys- 
tallization of  the  diamond. 

Leonard  entered  Yale  that  autumn.  He  was  the 
baby  of  his  class,  being  only  sixteen  years  old  and  his 
classmates  nicknamed  him  "Dutch";  but  he  was  just 
the  right  age  for  becoming  thoroughly  captivated  by 
American  life,  and  he  was  not  spoiled  by  the  popu- 
larity he  enjoyed  among  his  comrades.  When  in  the 
following  summer  of  1885  we  went  over  to  see  him, 
we  found  him  improved  in  just  the  way  we  had  hoped 
and  expected,  and  that  his  instructors  were  all  pleased 
with  him. 

This  was  in  all  respects  an  instructive  journey.  My 
old  friend,  Count  Fritz  Westphalen  of  Kulm,  upon 
whose  estate  the  battle  of  Kulm,  which  preshadowed 
the  downfall  of  Napoleon,  took  place,  asked  me  if  I 
would  let  his  two  eldest  sons.  Counts  Clemens  and 
Ottokar,  go  with  me  as  far  as  New  York,  as  he  wanted 
them  to  see  something  of  the  world.  We  were  delighted 
to  have  the  companionship  of  these  two  charming 
young  men,  whom  Leonard  already  knew,  and,  as  it 
chanced,  they  were  glad  to  accompany  us  almost 

(  216  ) 


everywhere  we  went.  They  joined  us  at  Leipzig  and 
we  went  on  to  Bremen  and  New  York  together,  where 
Leonard  met  us  and,  after  staying  over  in  New  Haven 
for  Commencement,  we  met  again  at  Boston  and 
went  to  Portland,  as  guests  of  your  Uncle  William, 
who  took  us  up  to  the  Rangeley  Lake  district,  a  large 
portion  of  which  he  owned.  We  had  great  fun,  jour- 
neying by  rail,  with  a  four-in-hand,  in  boats,  by  lake 
steamers  and  afoot,  but  the  boys  had  no  shooting,  for 
the  game  laws  were  rigidly  enforced.  It  was  the  first 
time  the  young  Germans  had  ever  seen  a  natural  for- 
est and  their  delight  was  boundless.  We  camped  on  an 
island  at  Parmachini  Lake  and  at  night  we  could  hear 
the  moose  and  deer  come  down  to  the  lake  from  the 
mainland  to  drink.  One  day  our  horses  snuffed  and 
shied  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  which  one  of  our 
guides  said  was  because  they  scented  a  bear;  and 
from  then  on  Clemens  had  his  gun  ready  at  hand, 
hoping  for  a  chance  to  bag  a  bear,  for  this  game  was 
not  protected. 

Later  we  made  a  trip  to  the  blue-grass  country  of 
Kentucky,  seeing  cities  by  the  way  and  inspecting 
famous  stock  farms.  At  Lexington  we  saw  Major 
McDonald,  a  renowned  breeder  of  horses.  He  was  a 
delightful  gentleman  of  the  true  Kentucky  stamp.  I 
believe  he  had  married  one  of  the  descendants  of 
Henry  Clay;  at  least  he  owned  the  Clay  mansion  and 

(  217  ) 


estate.  We  all  revelled  in  the  society  of  famous  horses 
and  were  enchanted  by  the  country  and  its  jovial  in- 
habitants. 

We  took  a  four-in-hand  and  drove  for  a  week  or  two 
in  that  beautiful  country,  in  Virginia  and  in  West  Vir- 
ginia, and  found,  outside  of  Kentucky,  places  where 
the  famous  blue  grass  also  grew  spontaneously.  The 
tremendous  extent  and  richness  of  the  uncultivated 
lands  throughout  the  "border  states"  deeply  im- 
pressed me  and  I  was  more  than  ever  confirmed  in  my 
belief  that  such  an  enterprise  as  I  dreamed  of  might 
become  a  reality. 

Those  were  halcyon  days.  Our  horses  were  a  mis- 
cellaneous lot.  The  two  leaders  were  young  thorough- 
breds, one  of  which  had  been  used  chiefly  as  a  saddle 
horse  and  the  other  had  been  only  twice  in  harness 
before.  The  wheelers  were  older  horses,  but  one  was  a 
pacer  and  the  other  a  trotter.  The  carriage  was  called 
a  "landau"  but  the  name  was  a  misnomer.  The  brakes 
were  on  the  front  wheels  and  when  we  went  at  a 
breakneck  speed  over  various  mountain  roads,  with 
no  barrier  on  the  side  of  the  frequent  precipice,  the 
tail  of  the  crazy  vehicle  wagged  suggestively.  Our 
driver  was  named  Behr.  He  was  a  mountain  of  flesh 
and  good  humour  and  was  supposed  to  know  the 
country,  but  he  didn't,  and,  moreover,  he  was  no  very 
skilful  whip.  The  leaders  were  always  playing  us  fes- 

(  218  ) 


tive  tricks  and  once,  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness, 
one  of  them  playfully  broke  a  whiffletree  instead  of  his 
wheeler's  jaw,  at  which  his  heels  seemed  to  be  di- 
rected. Poor  Behr  was  distinctly  nonplussed,  for  he 
could  think  of  no  method  of  repair  and  it  was  ten 
miles  to  the  next  blacksmith's.  We  laboriously  cut 
with  a  jack-knife  an  ash  sapling  to  the  right  length, 
and  then  spliced  the  fractured  whiffletree  sailor  fash- 
ion, while  he  looked  on  in  helpless  admiration,  and 
when  we  came  to  a  town  where  a  repair  could  be 
made,  he  refused  to  have  it  done,  saying  he  would 
keep  the  thing  as  it  was,  to  display  upon  his  return  to 
Lexington  as  a  witness  to  the  resourcefulness  of  his 
amazing  passengers. 

One  day  we  had  a  drive  difficult  even  for  that  diffi- 
cult country.  A  part  of  the  way  was  through  dry 
watercourses,  which  became  pouring  torrents  after 
summer  rains,  when  they  could  not  be  used  at  all,  and 
when  dry,  they  were  trying  enough  even  to  our  tough 
and  flexible  carriage  and  to  our  tolerably  seasoned 
physical  condition. 

During  that  day  we  found  five  trees,  which  heavy 
winds  had  overthrown,  lying  prostrate  across  our 
path,  and  we  came  upon  each  one  in  such  a  position 
as  to  make  a  new  problem  of  passage.  Of  course  Behr 
had  never  a  thought  of  anything  so  prosaic  as  bring- 
ing an  axe  as  part  of  our  equipment  and  he  had  to 

(  219  ) 


resort  to  various  methods  each  time  to  secure  a  pas- 
sage. In  one  case  a  large  tree  had  fallen  from  a  high 
bank,  its  roots  still  clinging  to  the  soil,  and  the  trunk 
itself  slanted  downwards  across  the  road  at  a  V- 
shaped  angle.  At  the  highest  point  we  scratched  away 
the  road  as  best  we  could,  put  back  our  carriage  top 
as  far  as  it  would  go  and  then  all  five  of  us,  including 
your  mother,  of  course,  hung  onto  the  top  with  our 
hands, un til  our  uni ted  weigh t  depressed  i  t  j  us t  enough 
for  the  carriage  to  scrape  through.  At  another  place 
a  large  tree  trunk  lay  athwart  the  road,  its  strong 
branches  spreading  over  the  edge  of  a  cliff.  We  set 
about  building  a  bridge  of  stones  over  the  tree.  Stones 
there  were  in  plenty,  but  there  was  a  ledge  of  slate  rock 
cropping  out  near  by  and  this  furnished  us  with  some 
flat  stones  especially  suitable  to  our  purpose.  When  the 
rest  of  the  party  happened  to  be  all  together  at  the 
bridge  with  their  contributions,  we  heard  Ottokar  cry 
out,  "Why,  here  is  a  snake."  He'was  standing  by  the 
ledge  and  we  ran  to  see  the  serpent  but  it  had  disap- 
peared. From  Ottokar's  description,  we  judged  that  he 
had  seen  a  rattlesnake  and,  remembering  that  these 
cheerful  reptiles  were  supposed  to  have  dens  in  such 
ledges,  we  concluded  to  bar  this  source  of  supply.  But, 
in  spite  of  good  resolutions,  someone  would  yield  to  the 
temptation  of  securing  a  flake  of  the  coveted  rock  and 
your  thoughtful  mother  would  warn  him  away.  Later 

(  220  ) 


I  turned  and  saw  your  dear  mother  sitting  with  her 
voluminous  petticoats,  which  were  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  widely  spread  out  over  the  dangerous  ledge.  But, 
upon  explaining  to  her  that  it  would  not  really  alle- 
viate the  situation  to  have  her  bitten  by  a  snake 
rather  than  anyone  else  in  the  party,  and  promising 
solemnly  that  we  wouldn't  go  near  the  ledge  if  she 
would  get  off,  she  finally  relinquished  her  efficient 
guard-mounting. 

Indeed,  we  had  such  uproarious  fun  out  of  all  Behr's 
delinquencies,  that  we  quickly  forgave  him  every- 
thing, especially  when,  one  evening,  we  came  to  a 
typical  Southern  village,  where  we  spent  the  night. 
Our  party  and  its  extraordinary  vehicle  excited  the 
wonder  of  the  inhabitants  and  when  some  of  them 
asked  our  Jehu  if  we  were  part  of  a  circus  and  he  an- 
swered that  he  did  n't  know  but  that  we  had  a  bear 
(Behr)  along,  we  felt  that  he  had  redeemed  himself. 
Upon  finally  parting  with  him,  I  gave  him  a  gaudy 
silver  watch  chain,  which  I  had  bought  in  Bohemia 
for  just  such  a  purpose;  and  when,  in  accepting  it,  he 
assured  me  that  we  were  "the  finest  crowd  I  ever  kim 
acrosst,"  I  felt  we  had  not  lived  in  vain. 

On  our  way  from  Richmond  to  Washington  we 
received  a  telegram  from  Stuart  Buck,  who  had  met 
handsome  Grace  Ross  with  the  beautiful  voice  at  our 
house  and  had  subsequently  married  her,  urging  us  to 

(  221   ) 


stop  at  Woodstock,  where  he  and  his  wife  were  visit- 
ing a  friend.  We  replied  that  we  would  stay  over  for 
luncheon,  and  Buck  and  his  friend  King  met  us  at  the 
station.  Before  we  knew  it.  King  had  sent  all  our  bag- 
gage by  a  mule  team  over  a  dreadful  road  to  his 
farm,  some  eight  miles  away,  and,  when  our  lunch 
was  over,  drove  us  to  his  house  in  the  mountains, 
where  he  had  been  trying,  among  other  things,  to 
make  charcoal  iron  at  a  profit,  in  the  face  of  the  Bes- 
semer process  of  making  steel.  We  admired  his  pluck, 
if  we  didn't  appreciate  his  judgement,  and  enjoyed  his 
society  immensely.  We  found  our  traps  distributed 
about  his  rambhng  house  and  had  just  time  to  dress 
for  dinner.  Upon  entering  the  drawing-room  I  found 
Mrs.  King  was  an  American  woman  whom  I  had 
known  in  Germany  a  few  years  before  as  the  wife  of  a 
German  manufacturer  in  the  Erzgebirge.  It  seems 
that  the  husband  had  died  and  after  her  year  of  wid- 
owhood was  over.  King  wrote  to  her,  saying  he  had 
always  loved  her  from  his  childhood  and  had  remained 
single  for  her  sake  and  begged  her  to  return  to  Amer- 
ica and  marry  him,  which  she  wisely  did,  for  he  was 
certainly  a  noble  character  and  they  seemed  ideally 
happy. 

We  remained  three  days,  despite  our  haste,  enjoy- 
ing their  charming  hospitality  and  exploring  the  beau- 
tiful country  full  of  undeveloped  riches  and  yet,  like 

(  222  ) 


all  the  South  of  that  time,  suffering  from  the  effects  of 
the  war  and  still  not  ready  to  heartily  welcome  the 
influx  of  Northern  men  and  Northern  capital.  On 
more  than  one  occasion  in  Virginia  I  was  mistaken  for 
an  Englishman  and  was  earnestly  invited  to  remain 
and  settle  there  and  told  fabulous  stories  of  English- 
men who  had  come  as  settlers  and  had  laid  the  foun- 
dations of  fortunes.  One  dear  old  Confederate  General 
was  most  insistent  that  I  should  go  to  see  an  English- 
man who  had  bought  a  property  and,  when  he  broke 
ground  to  dig  a  cellar  for  his  house,  had  come  upon  an 
unusually  fine  deposit  of  marble,  "as  perfect  as  that 
of  Carrara,  Sir." 

We  went  on  to  Washington  and  saw  the  usual 
sights.  The  boys  sat  in  President  Cleveland's  chair  in 
the  dining-room  and  found  the  White  House  an  ap- 
propriate residence  for  the  President  of  a  republic,  it 
being  just  a  noble  villa,  and  not  a  parody  of  an  im- 
perial palace. 

Then  we  went  on  to  Chicago,  which  had  arisen 
from  its  ashes  and  was  already  beginning  to  have 
visions  of  extension,  such  as  later  were  fulfilled.  Our 
young  Austrians  went  everywhere  and  saw  every- 
thing, and  their  intelligent  comments  were  often  en- 
hghtening  to  us.  I  think  two  episodes  made  an  especial 
impression  upon  them.  One  was  when  we  were  invited 
to  dine  at  a  racing  club  and  found  that  the  wives  and 

(  223  ) 


daughters  of  the  members  were  honorary  members  of 
the  club  and  that  our  host  had  the  ladies  of  his  family 
to  meet  us  at  a  capital  dinner  there,  and  that  they  all 
knew  much  about  horses  and  racing.  Last  of  all,  they 
heard  that  this  astounding  condition  had  continued 
for  years  without  a  single  scandal  having  occurred. 
The  second  impression  was  a  visit  to  a  police  court. 
One  morning  when  we  had  a  spare  hour,  I  took  them 
to  see  how  such  a  court  was  conducted.  The  weather 
was  warm  and  the  noise  through  the  open  windows 
was  deafening.  So  I  led  them  in  to  some  empty  seats 
among  those  reserved  for  reporters.  Before  us  were 
sitting  some  men  taking  notes.  Soon  one  of  them 
turned  to  me  and  sharply  asked:  "Do  you  represent 
the  press?"  I  answered  that  we  were  strangers  from 
Europe  and  would  like  to  see  how  justice  was  admin- 
istered in  an  American  court.  He  rephed:  "That's  all 
right  then,  but  its  dam'  little  justice  you'll  see."  He 
spoke  whereof  he  knew,  as  we  soon  discovered. 

In  travelling  with  these  boys  I  made  a  pot,  into 
which  I  put  three  parts  and  they  two  parts,  the  pot 
being  replenished  when  necessary.  Each  of  the  three 
boys  then  carried  the  pot  for  a  week.  Leonard  knew 
the  ways  of  American  travel  and  he  kept  the  pot  for 
the  first  week,  showing  Clemens  and  Ottokar  all  the 
tricks  of  travel.  They  quickly  learned  how  to  tele- 
graph for  rooms,  to  collect  the  baggage  in  good  season 

(  224  ) 


for  the  train  selected,  to  round  up  the  members  of  the 
party  and  get  them  to  the  station  on  time,  to  register 
at  the  hotels  and,  in  fact,  to  perform  all  the  duties  of 
a  courier.  It  was  great  fun  and  during  all  the  time  we 
travelled  together  those  three  boys  alternated  in  being 
"Secretary  of  the  Treasury  to  His  Majesty  the  Em- 
peror of  Morocco."  It  was  a  bit  of  practical  experience 
which  added  much  to  the  merriment  of  a  really  in- 
structive journey  and  one  full  of  physical  and  intellec- 
tual profit  to  us  all.  When  we  met  the  parents  of  the 
two  young  counts,  who  had  come  to  Bremen  to  wel- 
come us  upon  our  return  to  Germany,  they  were  as- 
tonished at  the  change  three  months  had  wrought  in 
their  boys  and  frequently  afterwards  were  accus- 
tomed to  say:  "We  sent  them  away  as  boys,  and  they 
returned  to  us  as  men." 

One  serious  result  of  this  journey  was  that  Leonard 
decided,  with  my  approval,  to  add  the  agricultural 
course  to  his  studies  at  the  Sheffield  Scientific  School. 
I  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  solid  fortunes  of  the 
future  would  be  found  in  American  land  and  had  a 
hope  that  Leonard  and  I  might  together  find  a  way  of 
carrying  out  some  method  of  colonization  in  the  course 
of  time  which  should  be  both  a  social  and  an  agricul- 
tural success.  Little  did  I  then  imagine  that  German 
and  American  manufacturing  industries  would  soon 
obtain  such  phenomenal  development  as  to  make 

(  225  ) 


peasant  labour  rare  and  expensive,  even  in  the  Father- 
land, and  render  such  a  scheme  as  I  had  planned  quite 
impossible.  My  delusion,  however,  endured  for  a  time 
and  when  Leonard  graduated  in  1887  we  went  to- 
gether to  Holland  and  investigated  there  some  of  the 
conditions  of  cattle  breeding,  and  afterwards  he  went 
to  Kentucky  and  undertook  horse  breeding  in  a  small 
way.  But  that 's  another  story. 

In  spite,  however,  of  my  lack  of  foresight,  we  later 
had  great  satisfaction  in  seeing  that  Leonard's  selec- 
tion of  Sheff.  instead  of  the  academic  course  at  Yale 
gave  him  the  indispensable  foundation  he  needed  to 
become  the  able  man  of  business  into  which  he  even- 
tually developed. 


i885      Chapter  Eleven      1909 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  the  eighties  began  my  ac- 
-^  ^quaintance  and  afterwards  my  friendship  with 
Baron  Holstein.  He  came  to  me  first  as  a  patient, 
when  I  knew  of  him  only  as  a  mysterious  power  be- 
hind the  throne,  at  the  head  of  the  Foreign  Office. 
Later  we  became  friends  and  mine  was  one  of  the  few 
houses  which  he  visited.  He  had  been  a  secretary  to 
the  German  Embassy  at  Washington  and  was  one  of 
the  few  foreigners  I  ever  knew  who  had  an  intelligent 
acquaintance  with  American  politics  and  commercial 
interests.  During  twenty  years,  that  is  up  to  the  end 
of  his  official  career  in  1906,  he  frequently  consulted 
me  as  to  the  trend  of  American  thought  and  action. 
Not  long  before  his  death  in  1909,  he  told  me  that  in 
no  single  case  had  I  been  in  error.  After  the  founding 
of  the  Empire,  great  difficulty  was  experienced  in 
coming  to  a  gold  standard,  for,  up  to  that  time,  silver 
had  been  the  basis  of  the  currency.  I  remember  that 
it  was  said  in  Dresden  that  a  whole  train  of  cars  was 
needed  to  bring  to  Berlin  the  indemnity  exacted  from 
Austria  after  the  war  of  1866.  The  German  Govern- 
ment disposed  of  its  surplus  silver  only  gradually,  so 
as  to  avoid  too  great  a  slump  in  the  silver  market,  but 
in  the  early  nineties  there  was  a  great  agitation  in 

(  227  ) 


America  for  "bi-metallism,"  as  it  was  called  by  Bryan 
and  other  silver  enthusiasts,  and  which  really  meant 
reversion  to  a  silver  standard.  The  German  Govern- 
ment was  considering  if  it  should  not  delay  selling  off 
more  of  its  stock  of  silver  until  America  was  committed 
to  a  silver  policy,  and  Holstein  asked  my  opinion.  I 
assured  him  that  this  agitation  in  America  was  but 
temporary,  caused  by  ignorant  or  interested  politi- 
cians and  that  it  was  impossible  that  it  should  prevail. 
In  1 902- 1 903  I  went  to  America  to  consider  taking  an 
interest  in  a  gold  mine  in  New  Mexico,  and  when  I 
returned  I  told  Holstein,  not  only  that  the  silver 
madness  was  on  the  wane,  but  that  I  had  learned 
there  were  many  rich  silver  mines  both  in  the  United 
States  and  Mexico  which  were  not  being  worked  be- 
cause of  the  low  price  of  silver  and  that  the  moment 
the  price  should  rise  but  a  little,  they  would  again  be 
worked  and  that  the  output  would  be  large  enough 
to  keep  the  price  low.  I  believe  my  report  had  some 
influence. 

In  those  years  I  retained  the  sympathy  for  Germany 
which  I  had  from  the  great  days  of  '66  and  '70,  and  re- 
joiced in  what  then  seemed  the  legitimate  expansion 
of  the  Empire.  Later,  in  the  nineties,  I  was  in  America 
to  attend  a  meeting  of  the  American  National  Dental 
Association  at  Niagara  Falls,  where  I  was  to  read  a 
paper.  On  the  railroad  train  I  saw  in  a  morning  news- 

(  228  ) 


paper  an  account  of  the  perplexities  of  the  Commission 
for  settling  the  Samoan  question,  about  which  the 
American  public  cared  little  and  knew  nothing.  Herr 
von  Mumm,  one  of  the  ablest  younger  German  diplo- 
matists, a  patient  and  friend  of  mine,  had  been  sent 
over  to  try  to  negotiate  a  treaty  with  the  American 
Government.  I  knew  the  feeling  of  the  German  people 
and  believed  that  the  question  to  them  and  their  Gov- 
ernment was  largely  a  sentimental  one.  Therefore  I 
wrote  a  letter  upon  the  subject  to  the  New  lork 
Tribune.  This  letter  had  some  influence  in  America. 
Von  Mumm  saw  it  and  sent  a  copy  to  Holstein,  who 
placed  it  before  the  Emperor. 

As  my  friendship  with  Holstein  ripened,  I  came  to 
have  a  great  esteem  for  his  character,  which  he  re- 
vealed to  me  in  many  ways  when  he  found  he  could 
talk  to  me  in  confidence.  He  led  a  lonely  life.  Having 
no  family  and  occupying  an  absolutely  unique  official 
position  as  the  undisputed  head  of  the  German  For- 
eign Office,  the  few  private  friends  he  chanced  to  have 
were  warmly  cherished. 

I  firmly  believe  that  the  action  of  Germany  in  Mo- 
rocco was  due  to  the  Emperor  alone,  and  that  it  was 
not  approved  by  either  Holstein  or  von  Biilow.  Hol- 
stein, by  the  way,  knowing  that  I  had  a  romantic 
interest  in  Morocco,  told  me  I  should  be  heartily  wel- 
come to  accompany  the  first  Germany  Embassy  which 

(  229  ) 


was  sent  to  Fez;  but,  much  as  I  should  have  Hked  it, 
my  engagements  made  it  impossible. 

He  wrote  me  once,  and  told  me  repeatedly,  that  he 
had  given  orders  that  if  ever  I  called  at  the  Foreign 
Office  I  was  to  be  shown  into  his  room  at  once,  no 
matter  who  was  with  him.  Of  course,  I  never  did  go  to 
call  upon  him,  unless  there  was  some  special  reason 
for  it,  but  if  I  chanced  to  meet  him  on  the  street  in 
Berlin,  he  would  reproach  me  for  not  coming  to  him. 
Upon  one  occasion,  however,  I  took  him  at  his  word 
and,  going  to  the  Foreign  Office,  sent  up  my  card. 
Almost  immediately  I  was  ushered  into  his  working 
room,  another  visitor  going  out  as  I  came  in.  He  was 
in  great  spirits  about  a  dispatch  which  he  had  just 
sent  to  the  British  Foreign  Office  and,  after  teUing  me 
something  of  its  purport,  touched  the  bell  and  ordered 
the  solemn,  soft-footed  official  who  responded,  to 
bring  from  the  archives  the  final  draft  of  a  numbered 
document.  The  official  soon  returned  bearing  in  his 
hands  a  black  portfolio,  which  he  reverently  placed 
before  Holstein  and  silently  disappeared. 

Holstein  then  opened  the  portfolio,  took  out  the 
paper,  spread  it  triumphantly  before  me  and  asked 
me  to  read  it,  first,  however,  calling  my  attention  to  a 
number  of  marginal  notes  made  by  the  Emperor.  I 
could  only  with  much  difficulty  read  the  German 
script  and,  since  the  text  and  notes  were  written  in  the 

(  230  ) 


German  running  hand,  a  bit  of  chauvinism  in  which 
the  Foreign  Office  delighted,  especially  in  its  corre- 
spondence with  England  and  Russia,  I  finally  asked 
Holstein  to  read  it  to  me,  which  he  obligingly  did. 

It  seemed  to  me  a  controversy  of  a  trivial  character, 
but  Holstein  greatly  enjoyed  the  masterly  way  in 
which  he  courteously  explained  to  the  British  Foreign 
Office  that  their  officials  were  such  fools  that  they 
could  not  understand  nor  practise  the  refinements  of 
diplomatic  language;  and  certainly  he  is  not  the  only 
diplomatist  who  has  been  glad  of  a  chance  to  rebuke 
the  traditional  superciliousness  of  His  Britannic  Maj- 
esty's Foreign  Office. 

Holstein  always  offered  me  letters  to  the  official  rep- 
resentatives of  Germany  whenever  he  knew  that  I  was 
going  upon  a  journey  and  they  were  sometimes  con- 
venient. When  your  mother  and  I  were  going  in  1892- 
1893  to  Mexico,  he  gave  me  such  a  letter  to  the  Ger- 
man Minister  to  Mexico,  who  at  that  time  had  charge 
of  Austrian  interests  also,  since  no  direct  Austrian  dip- 
lomatic relations  had  existed  since  the  execution  of 
Maximilian.  When  I  had  been  long  enough  in  Mexico 
to  partially  recover  my  health,  I  called  upon  him  and 
found  him  very  amiable  and  cordial.  Having  previous- 
ly been  Minister  to  Teheran,  he  had  accumulated  ex- 
traordinarily beautiful  Persian  carpets,  some  of  which 
were  hung  upon  the  walls  like  pictures,  being  indeed 

(  231  ) 


far  more  interesting  than  most  pictures,  and  your 
mother  greatly  admired  them  when  we  dined  at  the 
Legation  later.  When  I  went  to  make  my  parting  call, 
the  Minister  begged  me  to  tell  Holstein  how  much  his 
health  was  suffering  in  that  high  altitude  and  to  say 
that  he  would  like  to  be  transferred  to  another  post. 
When  I  repeated  this  to  Holstein,  he  laughed  and  said 
it  was  remarkable  that  all  German  diplomatists  were 
certain  that  the  only  capitals  in  which  they  could  Hve 
healthily  were  Paris,  Rome  and  London. 

From  the  beginning  I  had  found  that  it  was  a  great 
advantage  in  Europe  to  be  an  American  of  frankly 
American  sentiments  and  character.  I  have  known 
some  of  my  compatriots  who  were  enamoured  of  Euro- 
pean life,  and  especially  that  part  of  European  society 
which  is  considered  exclusive,  who  have  seemed  ever 
ready  to  apologize  for  America  and  to  be  even  a  bit 
ashamed  of  their  royal  birthright.  But  such  Americans 
have  not  seemed  to  me  to  be  much  esteemed  in  Euro- 
pean circles,  or  to  possess  much  influence. 

There  was  in  Germany  a  society  of  German  dentists 
who  were  graduates  of  American  dental  schools.  Under 
the  Empire  their  status  was  somewhat  ambiguous.  No 
one  could  deny  their  professional  competence,  but  the 
law  did  not  recognize  them  as  regular  practitioners. 
They  had  a  legitimate  grievance,  since  the  new  laws 
regarding  practice  scarcely  did  them  justice  and  they 

(  232  ) 


were  moreover  subjected  to  some  indignities  owing  to 
prejudiced  construction  of  the  laws.  They  wanted  to 
present  their  case  to  the  Chancellor,  von  Biilow,  and, 
not  daring  to  ask  for  an  audience  themselves,  they 
begged  me  to  arrange  it  for  them.  This  I  did  gladly 
enough,  but  still  feeling  that  it  was  humihating  that 
Germans  should  be  obliged  to  ask  an  American  to  se- 
cure an  opportunity  to  explain  their  grievance  to  their 
own  Prime  Minister.  The  day  and  hour  was  appointed 
and  I  met  the  delegation  in  Berlin  and  led  them  to  the 
Chancellor's  palace.  We  were  ushered  into  a  great  salon 
and  requested  to  wait  until  the  Chancellor  had  finished 
an  interview  with  the  president  of  the  Reichstag,  and 
while  we  were  waiting  a  door  was  suddenly  opened 
and  Princess  von  Biilow  came  in  and  called  out:  "Is 
my  old  friend  Dr.  Jenkins  here?"  I  hastened  to  meet 
her  and  she  gave  me  both  her  hands  and  greeted  me 
most  warmly.  Then  I  introduced  my  colleagues  and 
she  welcomed  them  also  cordially,  but  they  and  I  could 
not  help  noting  the  difference.  To  be  sure,  I  had  known 
her  when  she  was  the  wife  of  Count  Donhoff,  the  Prus- 
sian Minister  to  Dresden  and  had  seen  her  often  after 
she  had  married  von  Biilow,  whose  career  I  had  fol- 
lowed with  interest,  especially  since  I  knew  that  Hol- 
stein  was  shaping  it  and  had  helped  to  make  him  Am- 
bassador to  Italy  before  he  was  ripe  enough  to  be 
Chancellor.  But  it  was  absurd  that  a  young  foreigner 

(  ^33  ) 


should  have  been  the  means  of  presenting  the  repre- 
sentatives of  men,  one  at  least  of  whom  was  professor 
in  a  German  university,  to  the  representative  of  their 
own  government. 

The  Princess  took  us  about  the  palace  and  showed 
us  the  room  in  which  she  had  collected  the  relics  of  Bis- 
marck's time,  such  as  the  furniture  of  his  own  room, 
with  his  writing  desk,  etc.,  and  the  corridor  which  had 
been  built  out  into  the  park  to  give  him  a  place  to 
walk  in  the  open  air  and  yet  be  protected  from  the 
winds  and  rain.  She  told  me  that  she  had  never  been 
an  ambitious  woman,  but  that  she  rejoiced  that  her 
husband  had  been  appointed  to  serve  his  emperor  and 
his  country.  Nothing  could  be  more  charming  and  gra- 
cious than  the  manner  of  this  lovely  Italian  woman,  so 
much  more  frank  and  natural  than  women  of  her  class 
(she  was  an  Italian  princess)  born  under  colder  skies. 

When  we  had  our  audience  with  the  Chancellor  I 
simply  introduced  the  delegation  with  a  few  words  of 
explanation  and  they  stated  their  case  with  great 
clearness  and  good  effect,  for  the  Prince  promised  to 
see  that  their  disabilities  should  be  corrected  so  far  as 
he  was  able  to  accompHsh  it. 

The  first  time  I  saw  Countess  Donhoff,  she  brought 
to  me  an  Italian  nobleman  from  Naples,  who  was  in 
some  way  related  to  her.  He  had  come  North  to  escape 
an  epidemic  of  cholera,  of  which  he  was  in  great  dread. 

(  234  ) 


Upon  examination  I  found  that  the  swelling  of  the  jaw 
from  which  he  was  suffering  was  not  a  dental  malady, 
but  osteosarcoma  of  the  mandible.  I  gently  explained 
to  him  that  this  was  a  case  for  the  general  surgeon  and 
gave  him  a  note  to  Dr.  Crede.  When  Crede  assured 
him  that  the  only  hope  of  cure  lay  in  immediate  ex- 
tirpation of  the  diseased  tissue,  he,  with  the  horror  of 
surgical  procedure  common  to  Italians  of  that  day, 
rushed  back  to  Naples,  in  the  hope  of  dying  suddenly 
through  exposure  to  cholera.  But  the  poor  man  miser- 
ably met  his  end  only  by  the  slow  process  of  the  dis- 
ease from  which  he  was  already  suffering. 

These  episodes  were  called  to  mind  when  writing  of 
Holstein  through  the  fact  that  it  was  he  who  at  last 
arranged  the  real  interview  with  von  Biilow.  I  had 
known  von  Biilow  ever  since  he  was  secretary  of  the 
Prussian  legation  at  Dresden.  He  called  on  me  to  pre- 
sent his  condolences  when  Garfield  was  assassinated 
and  I  had  followed  his  career  with  great  interest. 
When  I  wrote  to  ask  for  an  audience  for  my  colleagues, 
I  received  an  immediate  reply  to  say  that  the  Chan- 
cellor would  be  glad  to  receive  me  as  soon  as  it  could 
be  arranged;  but  as  after  some  time  there  was  no  fix- 
ing of  a  date,  I  wrote  to  Holstein,  who  arranged  it  at 
once. 

For  years  Holstein  came  to  dine  with  me  whenever 
he  was  in  Dresden.  I  had  always  to  ask  any  guests 

(  '^3S  ) 


whom  I  invited  to  meet  him  not  to  dress,  since  he  dis- 
hked  all  ceremony,  but  I  was  careful  whom  I  asked.  I 
used  to  know  Count  Chotek,  the  Austrian  Minister  to 
Dresden,  very  well.  His  daughter,  Sophia,  married 
morganatically  the  Archduke  Ferdinand  and  died 
tragically  with  him  at  Serajevo,  their  assassination 
giving  occasion  for  plunging  Europe  into  the  long  ex- 
pected World  War.  One  day  when  Holstein  was  com- 
ing to  dine  with  us,  upon  returning  from  a  long  coun- 
try walk,  I  asked  him  if  I  should  invite  Chotek  to 
come  also  and  he  said:  "No,  better  not,  he  will  want 
to  get  things  out  of  me."  Then  he  reflected  a  moment 
and  said:  "Yes,  ask  him  if  you  like,  I  don't  mind." 
But  of  course  I  refrained.  We  were  richly  repaid,  for 
he  chanced  to  find,  just  as  he  was  starting  for  our 
house,  an  old  friend  who  had  been  chief  secretary  of 
the  German  Embassy  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  brought 
him  to  dine  with  us  without  announcing  him  before- 
hand, a  proof  of  friendship  which  we  highly  appre- 
ciated. They  talked  as  freely  as  if  in  their  own  house, 
since  we  had  no  other  guests  and  were  just  four  at 
table,  which  I  felt  to  be  a  great  compliment  to  our  dis- 
cretion. Much  of  their  conversation,  while  of  course 
not  reportable,  threw  many  a  side-light  upon  condi- 
tions and  persons  of  past  and  present  interest. 

But  it  was  not  all  "shop  talk."  I  remember  Holstein 
graphically  describing  a  hunting  expedition  he  once 

( 236 ) 


undertook  in  Brazil.  One  anecdote  was  of  a  stolid  pack 
mule  of  his  train,  which  was  just  preceding  him  up  a 
mountain  road.  Suddenly  the  mule  stopped,  with  his 
right  fore  leg  suspended  in  the  air,  perfectly  rigid  as  if 
cast  in  bronze.  Holstein  dismounted  at  once  and  ran 
to  the  mule's  head,  when  he  saw,  coiled  beneath  the 
place  where  the  mule  would  naturally  put  his  foot,  a 
small  coral  snake.  He  killed  the  snake  with  his  riding 
crop  and  cast  the  reptile  aside,  when  the  mule  set 
down  his  foot  and  placidly  resumed  his  way  up  the 
mountain.  Coral  snakes,  common  to  Central  and 
South  America  and  some  of  the  East  Indian  Islands, 
are  so  named  because  of  their  brilliant  belted  pink 
colouring.  They  were  considered  very  dangerous,  it  be- 
ing the  opinion  of  the  natives  that  their  venom  caused 
an  almost  instantaneous  coagulation  of  the  blood. 

When  Holstein  threw  aside  his  reserve  in  the  com- 
pany of  friends  whom  he  trusted,  his  conversation  was 
most  entertaining  and  instructive,  for  he  had  a  way  of 
illustrating  his  subject  by  anecdotes  and  he  much  en- 
joyed the  humourous  aspect  of  every  question.  One 
morning  he  came  unexpectedly  to  Dresden  to  consult 
me  professionally.  I  was  engaged  up  to  the  hilt,  but  I 
had  him  come  into  a  private  room  and  rushed  out  to 
see  him  for  a  moment.  Finding  that  he  really  needed 
attention,  I  told  him  if  he  would  return  late  in  the 
afternoon,  I  would  not  only  get  him  out  of  his  physical 

(  237  ) 


trouble,  but  also  teach  him  an  automatic  and  endur- 
ing method  of  keeping  the  peace  between  France  and 
Germany.  He  said:  "That's  what  I  am  paid  for  and  I 
should  like  the  information."  When  he  later  claimed 
it,  I  reminded  him  of  the  saying  of  Napoleon  that 
"armies  march  on  their  stomachs."  I  told  him  it  must 
be  a  far  nobler  thing  to  make  use  of  this  common  ne- 
cessity to  preserve  peace  than  to  conquer  peace  by 
force  of  arms.  Peoples  could  be  brought  to  fight  with 
each  other  by  perverted  ideas  of  patriotism,  through 
greed,  hatred  and  envy,  or  by  the  intrigues  of  rulers 
and  demagogues.  What  was  necessary  to  prevent  wars 
amongst  nations  was  an  appeal  constant  and  unre- 
mitting to  tastes  and  appetites  which  were  common  to 
all  mankind,  which,  when  cunningly  stimulated  and 
cultivated  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  national  habit, 
could  not  be  relinquished  except  by  breaking  up  inti- 
mate, international  gastronomic  relations. 

For  instance:  France  was  a  land  blessed  with  an 
abundance  of  dehcate  foods  and  wines,  such  as  no 
other  land  ever  approximately  possessed.  But  better 
far  than  Nature's  abundance,  the  French  people  had 
inherited,  as  no  small  part  of  their  unique  civilization, 
the  spirit  of  the  Greek  cuisine,  which  was  the  distant 
source  of  all  that  was  worthy  in  modern  gastronomy. 
No  one  could  know  better  than  he,  who  had  been  so 
long  resident  in  Paris  and  had  become  so  distinguished 

(  238  ) 


an  authority  in  the  art  of  dining.  I  reminded  him  that 
the  Romans  had  learned,  in  spite  of  natural  grossness 
in  feeding,  the  refinements  of  the  Greek  methods  and 
that  they  had  been  cultivated  and  renewed  in  the 
Italian  Renaissance,  and  that  France  had  received  the 
light  for  centuries,  and  at  last,  as  one  of  the  most  be- 
neficent results  of  the  Revolution,  had  popularized 
good  cookery  by  forcing  the  Italian  and  French  artists 
to  forsake  the  houses  of  the  great  French  nobles, 
which  had  been  left  desolate,  and  to  open  restaurants 
in  Paris  and  elsewhere,  to  the  enduring  improvement 
of  the  popular  taste.  But  the  one  thing  France  lacked 
was  good  German  beer  and  Rhine  wine.  I  explained 
how,  since  the  war  of  '70,  Austrian  beer  had  become 
popular  in  France,  and  yet  how  many  Frenchmen  re- 
mained in  ignorance  of  the  delight  of  drinking  true 
German  beer. 

My  plan,  therefore,  was  as  simple  as  it  was  infalli- 
ble. All  that  the  German  Government  had  to  do  was 
to  see  that  the  very  best  German  beer  and  wine  was 
exported  to  France  at  a  very  low  price,  under  an  agree- 
ment with  the  French  Government.  The  French  peo- 
ple were  to  learn  to  drink  the  German  beer  in  the  best 
condition,  until  it  became  to  them  a  necessity  of  Hfe. 
In  return,  the  French  Government  were  to  send  to 
Germany  as  many  thousand  French  cooks  as  should 
be  necessary  every  year  to  supply  all  good  German 

(  239  ) 


hotels  and  high-class  German  families;  for  the  whole 
world  knew  how  necessary  it  was  to  improve  the  art 
of  cookery  in  Germany.  Then,  when  any  military  fire- 
brand on  one  side,  or  any  fervid  agitator  on  the  other, 
threatened  to  cause  strife,  the  Germans  should  send 
to  France  beer  fit  only  for  an  Englishman  to  drink, 
and  the  French  cooks  in  Germany  should  begin  to 
cook  after  the  German  fashion.  In  this  way  the  people 
of  the  two  countries  could  most  quickly  be  brought  to 
their  senses  and  peace  be  preserved. 

I  think  his  chief  objection  to  my  engaging  plan  was 
that  he  shouldn't  then  know  what  to  do  with  the  small 
army  of  diplomats  dependent  upon  the  Foreign  Office, 
since  they  might  be  found  not  to  have  brains  enough 
to  brew  beer  or  to  learn  the  culinary  art. 

Holstein,  as  I  knew  him,  was  a  true  Prussian  official, 
devoted  to  his  profession,  loving  his  duties,  honouring 
his  Emperor.  He  exercised  his  extraordinary  power, 
which  was  due  to  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the  events 
which  led  to  the  founding  of  the  Empire  and  its  history 
from  the  beginning  of  the  first  act  at  Versailles,  where 
he  was  one  of  the  secretaries,  up  to  the  time  of  Bis- 
marck's fall;  and  then,  when  his  great  chief  was 
dropped  out,  he  did  not  resign,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected by  Bismarck,  but  kept  his  post,  knowing  that 
there  was  no  one  else  who  could  be  so  useful  there.  He 
never  intimated  it  to  me,  but  I  had  a  feeling  that  he 

(  240  ) 


either  did  not  approve  of  the  poHcy  of  the  Emperor 
after  the  Boer  War,  or  that  he  felt  that  terrible  events 
were  inevitably  approaching  and  that  he  might  not  be 
I  equal  to  stopping  them,  great  as  was  his  experience 

and  influence.  Indeed,  when  von  Biilow  made  his  an- 
nouncement to  the  Reichstag  in  the  time  of  the  great 
excitement  caused  by  one  of  the  Emperor's  imprudent 
speeches,  that  such  another  speech  unauthorized  by 
the  ministry  would  occasion  his  resignation,  I  felt  cer- 
tain then  that  the  fate  of  both  von  Biilow  and  his 
faithful  guide,  philosopher  and  friend,  Holstein,  was 
sealed. 

From  the  beginning  of  our  friendship  I  was  im- 
pressed by  Holstein's  incapacity  to  see  the  moral  as- 
pects of  any  international  question  which  affected 
Germany.  I  read  him  once  some  letters  which  I  had 
received  from  friends  in  the  East,  giving  an  account  of 
the  Armenian  massacres.  He  was  deeply  interested, 
but  wholly  unmoved.  The  information  was  only  of 
technical  importance  in  the  great  game  Germany  was 
playing,  just  as  the  number  of  killed  and  wounded 
would  be  to  a  Prussian  general  in  a  skirmish  in  a  mili- 
tary campaign.  I  also  observed  with  surprise  the  fre- 
quent childlike  incapacity,  so  extraordinarily  evident, 
even  in  the  most  learned  German  circles  during  the 
war,  upon  whose  second  year  we  have  entered  as  I  am 
writing  these  words,  to  appreciate  the  point  of  view  of 

(  241  ) 


non-Germans.  I  remember,  when  I  was  commenting 
upon  the  resentment  caused  in  Great  Britain  by  the 
Emperor's  astounding  telegram  to  Kruger  apropos  of 
the  Jameson  raid,  Holstein  repHed  that  he  was  amazed 
that  Englishmen  took  it  so  seriously.  To  him  it  doubt- 
less seemed  Hke  a  diplomatic  blunder,  which  anyone 
might  make,  and  therefore  should  be  taken  lightly  and 
simply  scored  as  of  only  passing  interest,  like  the  loss 
of  a  single  trick  in  a  long  game  of  cards.  For  him 
existed  only  Germany  and  the  Emperor.  In  their  serv- 
ice he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being.  I  found  this 
simphcity  of  mind,  characteristic  of  him  and  of  his 
caste,  really  engaging;  for  I  could  not,  in  those  days, 
believe  that  it  would  finally  result  in  a  world  catas- 
trophe. I  am  glad  that  he  passed  away  before  the 
event  and  I  shall  always  cherish  the  memory  of  our 
disinterested  friendship. 

I  hope  Holstein  left  a  diary;  it  would  make  interest- 
ing reading.  We  had  spoken  of  it  and  I  once  wrote  him 
regarding  his  preparing  an  autobiography.  He  replied 
as  follows: 

40  Grossbeerenstrasse,  January  8,  1907 
Dear  Dr.  Jenkins, 

I  thank  you  for  this  new  proof  of  friendly  interest  in  my  indi- 
vidual. You  urge  me  on  towards  posthumous  glory.  Well,  I  am 
not  sure  whether  in  30  years  from  now  the  living  generation 
will  have  much  time  and  patience  for  the  study  of  a  bygone 
period.  Perhaps  the  wisdom  of  to-day  will  then  be  looked  upon 

(  242  ) 


as  oldfogyism.  On  the  other  hand,  if  recollections  are  published 
too  soon,  they  may  be  damaging  to  the  country.  Vide  Hohen- 
lohe.  Perhaps  in  30  years  the  basin  of  the  Pacific  will  be  the 
great  arena  of  our  globe,  yes,  perhaps  already  much  sooner. 
Ten  years  ago  this  prophecy  would  have  appeared  childish.  But 
to-day  the  Japanese,  when  reading  statistics,  find  that  in  Japan 
no  human  beings  live  on  a  square  kilometer,  in  California 
about  3,  and  in  Oregon  even  less — Those  numbers  are  apt  to 
stir  up  the  yellow  idea — I  see  also  that  the  American  Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  before  had  intended  to  ask  Congress  for  one  big 
battleship,  is  now  asking  for  three.  Under  these  circumstances 
I  doubt  whether  the  British  plan  of  a  limitation  of  naval  arma- 
ments will  be  successful  at  the  Hague  Conference. 

Let  me  present  my  cordial  congratulations  for  Miss  Jenkins' 
engagement.  Anything  that  gives  you  satisfaction  is  sure  to 
please  me.  I  personally  venture  to  think  that  a  human  being 
may  be  single  and  satisfied,  yet  that  does  not  appear  to  be  the 
prevalent  opinion. 

Please  let  me  hear  from  you  again.  I  wonder  where  you  stay 
in  Paris. 

Yours  ever  sincerely, 

HOLSTEIN 

For  about  twenty  years,  even  up  to  the  time  of  his 
death,  I  came  to  know  fairly  well  Prince  Kraft  zu 
Hohenlohe.  He  was  a  brother  of  the  Stadthalter  of 
Alsace-Lorraine  and  Chancellor  of  the  Empire  after 
Capri vi,  whose  diary,  published  by  his  heirs  after  his 
death,  caused  him  and  his  times  to  become  better 
known  to  the  world.  I  have,  in  common  with  the  rest 

(  243  ) 


of  mankind,  often  wondered  what  the  original  notes 
must  have  been  if  the  published  volumes  had  been 
"carefully  expurgated." 

Prince  Kraft-Hohenlohe  had  the  frankness  of  his 
family  and  his  class  and  was  perfectly  fearless  in  hold- 
ing and  expressing  his  opinions.  He  was  a  general  of 
artillery  and  held  a  high  command  during  the  war  of 
*70.  He  was  always  asked  to  give  his  opinion  during 
the  campaign  whenever  a  council  of  war  was  called, 
and  he  told  me  that  the  King  was  always  pleased  when 
he  advocated  a  continued  and  unrelenting  offensive.  I 
believe  in  his  works  upon  strategy,  for  he  wrote  upon 
this  subject  chiefly,  he  frankly  advocated  the  "for- 
ward" policy,  which  has  been  so  conspicuous  in  the 
present  war. 

As  it  is  upon  the  second  of  September,  1916,  that  I 
am  writing  these  words,  I  am  reminded  of  something 
which  the  Prince  told  me  of  the  first  famous  "Sedan 
Day."  He  had  under  his  command  a  colonel  who  was 
a  notorious  martinet,  more  feared  than  loved  by  his 
men,  for  he  was  a  rough  and  rigid  disciplinarian.  But 
in  time  of  battle  he  was  as  courteous  as  he  was  conspic- 
uously brave.  It  was,  "Please  execute  these  orders," 
"Kindly  fire  more  rapidly,"  "Do  me  the  honour,  gen- 
tlemen, to  follow  me,"  etc.  On  the  morning  of  Septem- 
ber I  one  of  his  adjutants  came  to  Prince  Hohenlohe 
and  said:  "General,  Colonel has  a  premonition 

(  244  ) 


of  death;  he  insists  he  is  to  be  killed  to-morrow  and 
has  made  all  the  arrangements  for  the  event,  writing 
his  last  letters,  etc.,  and  he  has^sked  me  to  witness  a 
codicil  to  his  will."  "Nonsense!"  said  Hohenlohe, "he 
is  the  most  fearless  and  matter-of-fact  man  I  ever 
knew;  send  him  to  me  at  once."  When  the  colonel 
came  the  general  asked  him  what  this  wild  report  of 
the  adjutant  meant.  The  colonel  repHed  that  it  was  a 
matter  of  no  great  consequence,  but  he  knew  he  should 
not  survive  the  next  day  and  wished  the  general  to 
know,  that  he  might  be  prepared  for  the  event.  Then 
Hohenlohe  told  him  that  the  King  had  sent  him  word 
that  the  second  of  September  would  be  a  day  of  rest  for 
the  whole  army.  Napoleon  with  his  army  was  penned 
up  and  the  Prussians  could  patiently  await  their  sur- 
render. There  would  therefore  be  no  fighting.  "Very 
well,  general,  but  I  shall  be  killed  to-morrow  all  the 
same,"  said  the  colonel. 

The  next  morning  there  was  some  distant  firing  and 
Hohenlohe  and  his  staff  rode  out  to  see  what  it  meant. 
The  colonel  had  joined  the  staff  and,  while  they  were 
straining  their  eyes  and  ears  to  discover  what  the  fir- 
ing indicated,  the  colonel  asked  permission  to  ride 
with  a  portion  of  the  staff  to  a  slightly  higher  point 
near-by  for  better  observation.  Believing  that  the  posi- 
tion was  out  of  range,  the  general  consented  and,  when 
they  had  reached  the  spot  a  cannon-ball  struck  the 

(HS) 


colonel  in  the  breast,  killing  him  instantly,  while  no 
one  else  was  touched. 

The  acquisition  of  German  colonies  seemed  to 
Prince  Hohenlohe  hazardous,  partly,  I  believe,  be- 
cause of  the  difficulty  of  defending  them  and  yet  more 
because  he  believed  that  the  German  officials  were  un- 
equal to  the  task  of  governing  them  wisely.  Some  of 
the  stories  he  told  of  official  methods  would  be  incred- 
ible to  one  who  had  no  personal  experience  of  the  limi- 
tations of  the  official  class  when  working  without  exact 
instructions.  He  assured  me  that,  in  the  early  occupa- 
tion of  Kamerun,  the  police  put  up  notices  in  the  Ger- 
man language  on  the  trees,  and  punished  the  natives 
severely  for  not  complying  with  written  orders  which 
they  could  by  no  means  read  even  had  they  been 
printed  in  their  own  language. 

In  speaking  once  of  the  secret  service,  he  gave  me 
an  example  of  its  importance  and  its  efficiency.  He 
was  in  attendance  upon  the  first  German  Emperor  at 
Gastein.News  came  of  an  anarchist  plot  to  assassinate 
the  monarch  at  his  favorite  spa,  where  every  year  he 
went  and  lived  very  simply,  walking  about  familiarly 
among  the  people.  Hohenlohe  knew  that  every  rail- 
road train  was  under  surveillance,  but  he  increased 
the  number  of  plain-clothes  men  from  Berlin.  Every 
night  he  saw  the  Emperor  to  bed,  made  certain  that 
every  window  was  securely  fastened,  locked  the  door 

(246) 


of  the  apartment  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket  and 
then,  when  the  watch  was  set  and  all  was  quiet,  he 
wrapped  himself  in  his  cloak  and  laid  down  to  sleep  all 
night  on  the  floor  before  the  door  of  the  Emperor's 
rooms.  The  conspirators  were  caught  en  route,  but 
Hohenlohe  did  not  relinquish  his  devoted  care  until  he 
saw  the  Emperor  safely  back  in  Berlin. 


i88o      Chapter  Twelve      1902 

ALL  three  of  you  children  will  remember  the  Gas- 
-^  ^kels  and  the  friendship  which  united  our  two  fam- 
ilies for  many  years.  Major  Gaskel  had  served  chiefly 
in  India,  but  returned  to  Europe  when  the  purchase  of 
commissions  in  the  British  army  was  finally  aban- 
doned, accepted  the  liberal  compensation  which  the 
Government  offered  to  all  officers  who  resigned  under 
the  new  law,  and  settled  down  in  Dresden.  He  was  an 
accomplished  and  amiable  man,  whose  life  was  full  of 
acts  of  kindness  and  benevolence.  He  distributed  a 
portion  of  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough's  fund  among 
the  sufferers  in  Ireland  during  and  after  the  famine. 
It  was  he  who  built  the  harbours  for  fishermen  on  the 
West  Coast,  to  provide  a  more  abundant  food  supply, 
through  encouraging  a  languishing  industry.  Saintly, 
fragile  Mrs.  Gaskel  was  an  Irishwoman,  the  daughter 
of  a  lovely  Irish  clergyman,  whom  we  also  knew.  I 
once  asked  the  major  what  sort  of  men  he  would  wish 
to  command  if  he  could  have  his  choice  and  he  an- 
swered promptly:  "A  regiment  of  red-headed  Irish- 
men!" He  anticipated  Kipling  in  admiration  and  af- 
fection for  that  gifted  and  unfortunate  people. 

You  will  recollect  that  the  two  Gaskel  boys,  Guy 
and  Wilfred,  were  both  marked  examples  of  the  com- 

(  248  ) 


bined  qualities  of  English  and  Irish  character  and  tem- 
perament. Poor  Guy  was  crippled  with  hip  disease, 
from  which  he  suffered  much  but  uncomplainingly.  He 
had  a  great  love  of  sport  and  of  the  sea.  He  knew  the 
names  and  tonnage  of  a  vast  number  of  ships,  both  of 
the  navy  and  of  the  merchant  marine.  He  pored  over 
maps  and  geographies  and  spent  many  of  the  hours  of 
the  night,  wakeful  by  reason  of  his  painful  infirmity, 
in  planning  what  he  would  do  to  increase  the  power 
and  prosperity  of  the  British  Empire,  "when  he  got 
well." 

He  read  much  about  the  Arctic  regions  and  at  last 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  wholly  practicable 
to  establish  steam  communication  between  England 
and  the  great  Siberian  rivers.  The  Kara  Sea  was  open 
for  navigation  for  about  eight  weeks  each  year.  Swift 
ships,  built  for  the  purpose,  could  make  quick  trips 
and  exchange  cargoes  at  the  mouth  of  those  rivers,  or 
even  penetrate  into  the  deep  interior  of  Asia. 

One  day  Guy  read  a  modest  advertisement  in  a 
shipping  newspaper  asking  for  aid  to  establish  a  com- 
pany for  attempting  a  commercial  enterprise  through 
the  Kara  Sea,  such  as  he  himself  had  thought  out.  He 
wrote  at  once  to  make  inquiries  and  received  a  reply 
from  Captain  Wiggins,  a  well-known  shipmaster  of  the 
good  old  British  breed.  Guy  sent  the  correspondence 
to  his  father,  who  was  in  London,  and  he  at  once  be- 

(  249  ) 


came  interested  in  the  matter,  looked  up  the  captain 
and  found  that  he  had  made  several  voyages  in  the 
Kara  Sea  and  was  already  in  negotiation  with  some 
people  in  Newcastle-on-Tyne  to  found  a  company. 

Guy  came  one  day  with  his  mother  to  tell  me  all 
about  it  and  I  was  greatly  delighted  with  the  whole 
story.  Major  Gaskel  continued  to  interest  himself  in 
the  matter,  helped  to  form  a  little  company  and  be- 
came one  of  the  directors.  I  also  joined  the  company, 
impelled  by  my  sympathy  for  Guy  and  an  hereditary 
fascination  for  maritime  adventure.  We  called  our- 
selves "The  Merchant  Adventurers."  We  bought  a 
small  steamer  of  300  tons.  She  had  been  built  for  and 
used  in  the  Hudson  Bay  service.  We  named  her  the 
Phoenix,  strengthened  her  still  more  with  extra  iron 
plates,  loaded  her  with  such  merchandise  as  we 
thought  people  in  Siberia  would  like  and  sent  her  on 
her  way. 

Captain  Wiggins  was  an  ideal  man  for  our  purpose. 
He  was  a  dauntless  seaman,  intelligent,  hardy,  re- 
sourceful. Major  Gaskel  wrote  of  him:  "Captain  W. 
is,  I  believe,  as  careful  and  restlessly  vigilant  a  navi- 
gator, as  he  is  a  sober,  God-fearing,  but  otherwise 
fearless  man;  determined,  but  not  rough." 

The  Phoenix  arrived  in  good  season  at  the  Kara 
Gates,  an  opening  between  the  southern  extremity  of 
Nova  Zembla  and  the  Asiatic  continent,  giving  Cap- 

(  250  ) 


tain  Wiggins  time  to  make  two  interesting  observa- 
tions. One  was  that  there  were  rivers  in  Nova  Zembla 
swarming  with  the  finest  salmon  imploring  to  be  cap- 
tured and  canned,  or  sent  fresh  to  countries  where 
they  would  be  appreciated,  and  the  other  was  that  a 
small  branch  of  the  Gulf  Stream  penetrated  through 
the  Kara  Gates  and  aided  to  open  them  as  the  spring 
floods  of  the  great  Russian  rivers  began  to  break  up 
the  ice  in  the  Kara  Sea. 

Our  ship  was  destined  for  Yeniseisk  on  the  Yenisei 
River,  a  city  of  about  12,000  inhabitants,  in  the  very 
heart  of  Siberia.  When  Captain  Wiggins  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  great  river  and  began  to  ascend  it,  he 
found  the  Samoyedes,  who  seem  to  be  cousins  to  our 
North  American  Indians,  of  great  help  as  pilots.  There 
were  no  charts  and,  in  such  unknown  regions,  it  was  a 
great  help  to  find  natives  who  knew  sections  of  the 
mighty  river.  One  of  the  most  capable  pilots  was  an 
aged  Samoyedes  chief,  who  was  totally  blind;  but  his 
grandson  sat  by  his  side  on  the  bridge  and  told  him  all 
the  landmarks  and  the  trend  of  the  current,  which 
was  quite  sufficient  for  him  to  direct  the  ship  safely. 
There  is  only  six  feet  of  water  at  the  broad  mouth  of 
the  Yenisei,  but  the  Phoenix  was  flat-bottomed  and 
had  a  draft  of  only  five  feet,  so  she  passed  the  shoals 
all  right,  but  the  river  navigation  was  complicated. 

When  the  Phosnix  reached  Yeniseisk  on  about  the 

(251 ) 


intended  day,  she  was  received  with  great  enthusiasm. 
Bells  were  rung,  whistles  sounded,  and  the  whole  pop- 
ulation was  en  fete;  and  no  wonder;  it  was  really  a 
great  nautical  feat.  Similar  attempts  had  been  made 
for  more  than  a  century.  All  the  chief  maritime  na- 
tions seem  to  have  tried  it,  but  it  was  reserved  for  our 
simple  little  company  to  make  it  possible  by  reason  of 
the  experience  and  capacity  of  Captain  Wiggins  and 
because  we  were  not  exactly  men  of  business.  To  the 
clear  reason  of  the  characteristic  business  man,  it 
seemed  a  reckless  undertaking,  as  indeed  it  was.  But 
we  had  our  reward.  The  cargo  was  stored  and  subse- 
quently sold  at  a  profit.  The  captain  left  the  ship  with 
a  part  of  the  crew  and  came  overland  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, as  it  was  then  called  in  the  year  1887.  Every- 
where Wiggins  was  hailed  as  a  hero.  I  believe  he  was 
presented  to  the  Czar.  He  was  certainly  made  an  hon- 
orary member  of  the  Russian  Geographical  Society 
and  the  Russian  Government  gave  our  company  five 
years  free  trade  with  Siberia. 

When  we  had  our  captain  safely  home  again,  we 
began  to  plan  for  the  next  season.  The  company  had 
become  famous  and  if  we  had  been  wise,  we  should 
have  enlarged  it  and  taken  in  some  men  of  wide  busi- 
ness experience  and  solid  fortune;  but  we  felt  we  could 
manage  it  ourselves.  So  we  bought  a  larger  ship  and 
fitted  her  out  with  a  more  expensive  cargo  and  ar- 

.   (  252  ) 


ranged  for  the  Phoenix  to  come  down  to  a  certain 
point  on  the  Yenisei  laden  with  Siberian  goods  to  ex- 
change for  ours. 

We  had  two  guests  on  board.  One  was  the  son  of  Sir 
Robert  Morier,  the  British  Ambassador  to  Russia  (he 
whom  Herbert  Bismarck  maligned  on  a  visit  to  Eng- 
land, a  shameful  incident  in  a  shameful  Hfe),  who  had 
felt  much  interest  in  our  enterprise;  and  the  other 
was  Seabohm,  the  famous  British  ornithologist,  who 
wanted  to  secure  some  Arctic  birds.  Seabohm  subse- 
quently investigated  the  flight  of  aquatic  birds  at 
Heligoland  and  found  that  some  birds  can  fly  at  the 
rate  of  four  hundred  miles  an  hour.  Both  of  our  guests 
had  to  endure  serious  hardships  after  they  left  the 
ship,  but  their  adventures,  I  believe,  were  fairly  inter- 
esting and  instructive. 

Wiggins  had  brought  our  ship  to  the  North  Cape, 
when  we  telegraphed  him  to  delay,  since  the  Phoenix 
had  gone  aground  a  few  versts  below  Yeniseisk  and 
we  were  waiting  to  hear  if  she  got  off  all  right.  Prob- 
ably Wiggins  thought  that  the  season  was  late  and 
that  the  Phoenix  would  almost  surely  get  through, 
and  so  he  chartered  a  boat,  which  would,  he  believed, 
get  up  the  Yenisei  in  case  of  need,  and  sailed  without 
awaiting  further  advices. 

The  mistake  was  fatal.  The  Phoenix  got  off  the 
sands  and  came  down  according  to  plan,  but  Wiggins 

(  '^SZ  ) 


found  the  consort  drew  too  much  water  for  the  ascent 
of  the  river  and,  faihng  the  latest  news,  waited  for 
the  Phcenix  about  two  hundred  miles  away  from  the 
actual  rendezvous.  He  remained  at  the  mistaken  post 
until  the  last  possible  moment  and  then  barely  got  out 
to  the  west  of  Nova  Zembla  before  the  sea  was  closed 
with  ice. 

We  lost  such  a  pot  of  money  that  we  were  obliged  to 
abandon  our  project  and  be  content,  like  so  many 
other  pioneers,  in  having  blazed  the  way  for  others. 

The  PhceniXy  however,  rose  from  her  ashes  to  the 
blessing  of  the  world.  During  the  construction  of  the 
Siberian  railroad,  the  Russian  Government  engaged 
Captain  Wiggins  to  make  numerous  voyages  to  trans- 
port rails  to  the  mouths  of  the  great  rivers.  He  could 
use  for  this  purpose  vessels  of  greater  tonnage  and 
deeper  draft  and  the  experience  gained  through  his 
former  voyages  enabled  him  to  accomplish  his  task 
so  as  to  contribute  something  to  the  expedition  of  that 
great  enterprise. 

Our  example  also  had  much  interest  for  Norden- 
skiold  and  Nansen.  The  latter,  upon  returning  from 
his  famous  trip  through  the  Kara  Sea  to  the  Yenisei  in 
1 9 13,  said,  in  a  lecture  at  St.  Petersburg,  that  he  be- 
lieved this  commercial  route  could  be  made  practica- 
ble and  advised  the  Government  to  use  aeroplanes  to 
report  by  wireless  the  condition  of  the  treacherous  sea 

(  254  ) 


to  vessels  using  this  route  between  western  Europe 
and  Siberia. 

I  quote  from  a  leading  article  "The  New  Route  to 
Siberia,"  in  xhtNew  York  Times  of  January  26,  1916. 

The  Russian  Government  adopted  his  [Nansen's]  suggestions. 
The  system  was  in  operation  last  summer,  and  the  results  were 
so  satisfactory  that  it  is  the  intention  to  send  a  considerable 
fleet  of  commercial  vessels  into  the  Kara  Sea  this  season.  Two 
steamers,  the  Haugastoel  and  the  Eden^  in  the  service  of  the 
Siberian  Commercial  Company,  arrived  at  Grimsby,  England, 
on  October  11  with  large  cargoes  shipped  from  the  mouths 
of  the  Yenisei  and  Obi  rivers.  They  were  loaded  with  wheat, 
butter,  hemp  and  other  Siberian  products.  They  were  Siberia's 
only  commercial  outlet  last  year  to  any  country  except  Russia, 
as  the  Siberian  railroad  is  now  monopolized  by  the  Government 
for  military  purposes. 

As  Joseph  Lied,  in  charge  of  this  expedition,  approached 
Yuga  Strait,  the  entrance  into  that  part  of  the  Arctic  Ocean 
called  the  Kara  Sea,  he  was  informed  by  wireless  operators  that 
there  was  ice  in  the  Strait,  but  that  the  Kara  Sea  was  in  navi- 
gable condition.  He  forced  his  way  through  the  Strait,  and  from 
there  to  the  mouths  of  the  Yenisei  and  the  Obi.  He  was  guided 
all  the  way  by  wireless  advices,  which  kept  him  in  touch  with 
the  best  information  as  to  how  to  shape  his  course.  There  were 
wireless  stations  at  three  points  along  the  Arctic  coasts,  and 
two  aeroplanes  between  these  stations  were  constantly  bringing 
information  as  to  the  condition  of  navigation.  A  part  of  the 
cargo  was  taken  on  at  the  mouth  of  the  Obi  river  and  this  is  the 
second  time  that  a  steamship  has  visited  it.  It  is  the  third  suc- 
cessive and  successful  voyage  that  has  been  made  to  the  Kara 

(255) 


Sea  and  the  great  Siberian  rivers.  Under  his  command  a  much 
larger  fleet  of  vessels  will  be  sent  out  next  summer,  as  it  is  be- 
lieved the  navigation  problem  is  now  solved. 

It  is  well  worth  the  while  of  Western  Europe  to  establish  a 
connection  with  these  two  great  river  basins  if  the  project  is  as 
practicable  as  it  is  now  said  to  be.  The  Yenisei  and  the  Obi  rank 
with  the  largest  rivers  of  the  world  in  volume  and  in  drainage 
area.  In  these  respects  they  far  surpass  all  European  rivers.  The 
Obi  basin,  with  its  tremendous  system  of  tributaries,  is  nearly 
half  as  large  as  the  United  States.  The  Yenisei  area  of  drainage 
is  nearly  200,000  square  miles  smaller  than  that  of  the  Obi;  and 
great  regions  of  the  most  fertile  lands  of  Siberia  are  drained  to 
the  sea  by  these  rivers. 

Even  as  I  am  writing  these  words,  in  the  second 
month  of  the  third  year  of  the  Great  War,  while  stay- 
ing at  the  peaceful  Httle  town  of  Morrisville,  Vermont, 
in  September,  1916,  the  "much  larger  fleet  of  vessels" 
referred  to  may  be  making  its  exit  from  the  Kara  Sea 
and  bringing  much  needed  Siberian  products  to 
England. 

May  this  commerce,  finally  established  under  stress 
of  war,  continue  under  the  conditions  of  that  world 
peace  for  which  all,  especially  Americans,  so  greatly 
long,  and  which  our  own  institutions  and  traditions 
cause  us  to  believe  are  possible  to  obtain.  American 
idealism  may  yet  show  the  way  to  such  a  beneficent 
result  as  surely  as  the  dream  of  a  fragile  but  thought- 
ful English  boy,  possessed  of  the  indomitable  spirit  of 

(256) 


his  race,  pointed  the  way  and  secured  the  accomplish- 
ment of  an  undertaking  which  practical  men  looked 
upon  as  visionary  and  foolish. 

Guy,  whose  infirmity  increased,  was  at  last  taken  to 
Kiel,  to  be  under  the  observation  and  care  of  the  great 
surgeon,  von  Esmarch.  After  long  hesitation,  it  was 
finally  certain  that  the  only  hope  was  in  an  operation, 
but  even  that  did  not  avail  to  save  him  for  long,  and 
at  last  he  died  from  exhaustion.  Your  mother  and  I 
went  to  Kiel  and  stayed  until  the  dear  boy  was  buried, 
deeply  sharing  the  grief  of  our  friends  and  regretting 
the  loss  to  the  world  of  such  a  gifted  character. 

My  acquaintance  with  von  Esmarch  began  in  the 
seventies,  when  he  sent  his  daughter  to  me  as  a  pa- 
tient. Subsequently  he  also  became  my  patient  and 
later  my  friend. 

Von  Esmarch  was  a  delightful  example  of  the  Ger- 
man doctors  of  my  earliest  acquaintance.  He  was  one 
of  the  most  eminent  surgeons  in  the  world,  but  kindly, 
modest,  charitable  in  deed  and  opinion,  and  cherish- 
ing the  spirit  of  humanity  as  preciously  as  the  teach- 
ings of  science.  I  think  he  was  of  Danish  origin.  In  any 
event,  he  had  the  independence  of  spirit  characteristic 
of  the  Norse  blood.  He  was  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen 
and  the  "von,"  which  the  first  German  Emperor  con- 
ferred upon  him,  was  but  a  recognition  of  the  nobihty 
which  he  already  possessed. 

(  257  ) 


After  the  death  of  his  first  wife,  von  Esmarch  be- 
came yet  more  absorbed  in  his  work,  especially  in 
sanitary  work.  I  think  it  was  in  a  hospital  that  he  first 
became  acquainted  with  the  beautiful  and  stately 
Duchess  of  Schleswig-Holstein,  who  had  herself  be- 
come a  nurse,  being  devoted  to  Red  Cross  service. 
They  became  attached  to  each  other  and  finally  mar- 
ried. They  were  both  desirous  that  the  Duchess  should 
drop  her  title  and  be  known  only  as  Frau  von  Es- 
march, but  her  family  protested  against  it.  They  said 
such  an  act  might  indicate  that  they  were  ashamed  of 
the  alliance,  while,  on  the  contrary,  they  regarded  it 
as  an  honour. 

Von  Esmarch  had  upon  several  occasions  said  to 
me,  in  his  simple,  kindly  way,  "I  hope  it  may  never 
be,  but  if  you  should  ever  need  surgical  attention,  I 
beg  you  to  call  only  upon  me.  No  one  else  would  give 
you  such  devoted  and  tender  care  and  I  should  find 
great  pleasure  in  being  of  service  to  you." 

You  children  will  recollect  the  sad  accident  which 
befell  Wilfred  Gaskel.  In  the  dawn  of  his  young  man- 
hood he  had  a  comphcated  fracture  of  the  tibia  and 
fibula  of  his  left  leg.  He  was  taken  to  the  Carola  Haus, 
where  Crede  was  the  chief  surgeon,  and  received  every 
attention.  Under  this  skilful  care,  Wilfred  was  doing 
well,  and  just  before  Crede  went  away  for  his  summer 
outing,  he  assured  me  that  there  was  no  danger  of  any 

(258  ) 


complications  and  that  the  leg  would  certainly  be 
saved.  Shortly  afterwards,  of  a  Saturday  afternoon,  I 
went  to  the  hospital  and  received  the  usual  favourable 
report  and  found  the  patient  in  cheerful  spirits.  On 
Sunday  morning,  when  upon  my  way  to  church,  I  re- 
ceived a  message  from  Wilfred,  begging  me  to  come  at 
once,  for  the  surgeon  wanted  to  amputate  his  leg.  I 
found  the  young  man  who  had  charge  of  the  case  in 
the  absence  of  Crede,  who  was  at  a  distant  Hungarian 
spa  and  could  not  be  communicated  with,  in  a  state  of 
anxiety  in  regard  to  some  increased  local  inflamma- 
tion but  not  accompanied  by  fever,  and  feeling  the 
only  safe  proceeding  was  to  take  off  the  leg.  There  was 
no  eminent  surgical  authority  left  in  Dresden,  all  the 
chief  men  being  absent  and,  since  Wilfred's  father  was 
in  Ireland  and  his  mother  deceased  since  several 
months,  I  took  upon  myself  to  ask  for  a  suspension  of 
the  proposed  radical  treatment  until  I  could  consult 
von  Esmarch.  I  telegraphed  him  at  once,  asking  his 
advice  and  almost  immediately  received  a  reply  that 
he  and  his  wife  would  come  by  the  next  train.  Both  of 
them  knew  and  loved  Wilfred  from  the  time  when 
poor  Guy  was  at  Kiel.  Von  Esmarch  arrived  at  the 
first  possible  moment  for  a  consultation  with  the  sur- 
gical staff,  who  received  the  honoured  Master  and  his 
ducal  wife  with  great  reverence.  It  was  delicious  to  see 
von  Esmarch  among  these  adoring  young  doctors.  He 

(  259  ) 


brought  out  all  they  had  to  say  most  tactfully.  He 
caused  them  to  unbandage  the  leg  and  displayed  the 
deepest  interest  in  their  diagnosis  and  seemed  to  ap- 
prove of  all  they  said.  At  the  subsequent  consultation 
he  told  them  that  they  were  doubtless  correct  in  sup- 
posing that  amputation  would  be  the  most  sure  way 
to  recovery,  but  it  was  also  proper  to  consider  that  the 
loss  of  the  leg  to  such  a  young  man  would  be  a  serious 
disadvantage  and  so  they  might  perhaps  venture  to 
delay  operating  until  every  other  expedient  had  been 
exhausted.  He  narrated  similar  cases  where  the  local 
inflammation  had  been  allayed  by  applications  of  ice 
and  cold  compresses  and  convinced  them  that  they 
could  themselves  treat  this  case  in  the  same  way  with 
favourable  results.  And  so,  when  after  a  few  weeks  von 
Esmarch  returned  to  see  the  case  again,  he  found  the 
young  surgeons  jubilant  over  the  cure  they  had 
wrought. 

In  1902,  following  Prince  Heinrich's  visit  to  Amer- 
ica, where  he  had  been  most  cordially  received,  von 
Esmarch  sent  to  me  the  following  letter,  with  an  inter- 
esting portrait  of  the  Emperor  which  was  evidently 
painted  in  one  of  the  monarch's  sterner  moods.  It  is 
well  von  Esmarch  did  not  live  to  see  the  terrible  World 
War,  under  which  I  feel  sure  his  just  and  kindly  soul 
would  have  suffered  greatly. 

(  260  ) 


Kiel,  d.  1 8.  2.  1902. 

HOCHVEREHRTER  HeRR  HoFRATH 
UND  LIEBER  KoLLEGe! 

Die  freundschaftlichen  Verhaltnisse,  welche  zwischen  Amerika 
und  Deutschland  bestehen  und  jetzt  durch  die  Reise  des 
Prinzen  Heinrich  neue  Nahrung  bekommen  haben,  lassen  mich 
vermuthen,  dass  Ihnen  ein  Bild  unseres  erhabenen  Kaisers 
nicht  unwillkommen  sein  wird. 

Ich  erlaube  mir  daher,  als  ein  kleines  Zeichen  meiner  grossen 
unausloschlichen  Dankbarkeit  das  beifolgende  Kaiserbild  Ihnen 
zu  senden  mit  der  Bitte,  dasselbe  freundlich  aufnehmen  zu 
wollen. 

In  grosster  Hochachtung 

bin  ich 

Ihr  dankbar  ergebener 

Dr.  Friedrich  von  Esmarch* 

This  portrait  I  left  at  Thorwald  with  many  other 
paintings  which  I  valued,  to  have  brought  to  America 
when  the  war  should  be  over.  I  hope  it  may  be  pre- 
served, since  it  seems  to  reveal  the  character  of  this 
amazing  monarch  as  it  is  now  regarded. 

•See  Appendix,  note  9. 


i88o     Chapter  Thirteen     1890 

THE  eighties  were  interesting  years  to  me.  I  had 
begun  to  understand  what  a  privilege  it  was  to 
live  in  the  center  of  Europe  and  among  such  highly 
educated  and  kindly  people.  My  practice  had  steadily 
increased  and  I  saw  interesting  and  important  per- 
sonages from  every  part  of  the  civilized  world  and 
from  some  countries  where  the  state  of  civilization 
was  not  highly  pronounced. 

I  worked  prodigiously  long  hours  and  found  my 
strength  equal  to  my  necessities.  I  began  to  see  that 
my  professional  standing  was  assured  when  my  Euro- 
pean colleagues  began  to  make  morning  calls  upon  me 
in  full  dress  and  call  me  "Meister."  In  1886  King 
Albert  made  me  a  Knight  of  the  Albrecht's  Order  of 
the  first  class.  The  King  had  inquired  privately  if  I 
would  prefer  a  decoration  or  a  title  and  I  answered 
that  if  His  Majesty  had  graciously  decided  to  honour 
me  with  an  indication  of  his  royal  favour,  it  was  quite 
the  same  to  me  what  form  the  distinction  possessed. 

The  Hofmarschal,  in  handing  me  the  order,  said  the 
King  had  decided  to  give  me  a  decoration,  since  that  I 
could  wear  anywhere. 

When  I  had  an  audience  to  offer  my  thanks,  the 
King  thanked  me  for  the  professional  services  I  had 

(  262  ) 


rendered  the  Queen  for  some  years.  He  subsequently 
became  my  patient  and  visited  me  regularly  ever 
after,  up  to  the  time  of  his  death. 

I  was  first  summoned  to  visit  the  King  at  his  favour- 
ite residence,  the  royal  villa  at  Strehlen,  near  Dres- 
den. Upon  finishing  my  examination,  I  told  him  that 
I  would  gladly  come  to  him  at  any  place  and  time,  but 
that  I  could  treat  him  more  satisfactorily  if  he  could 
come  to  my  office,  where  I  had  conveniences  for  every 
emergency.  He  willingly  consented  and  actually 
seemed  to  enjoy  his  visits,  though  I  was  the  only  pro- 
fessional man  in  Dresden  to  whom  this  honour  was 
accorded. 

One  day  he  brought  his  dog  with  him  and  excused 
the  presence  of  the  animal  by  saying  that  he  was  driv- 
ing with  the  dog  and  there  was  not  time  to  take  him 
back  to  the  palace  without  being  late  to  his  appoint- 
ment with  me.  I  assured  the  King  that  I  was  very  fond 
of  dogs  and  should  be  glad  if  he  could  always  bring 
him.  This  he  afterwards  did  and  the  dog  came  to  know 
me  and  expect  my  greeting  after  that  to  his  master. 
At  last  the  King  came  once  without  the  dog  and  told 
me  very  sadly  that  his  favourite  had  recently  died  of 
cancer.  There  had  been  an  operation  performed  to  no 
avail  and  now  he  was  determined  never  to  have  a  dog 
again,  for  the  loss  of  such  a  friend  was  too  distressing. 
I  did  not  see  the  King  again  for  six  months,  but  when 


he  then  came,  he  brought  ahnost  the  counterpart  of 
the  dog  he  had  lost.  I  asked  if  the  dog  had  been  resur- 
rected and  he  answered  that  the  Queen  had  had  peo- 
ple searching  all  Europe  to  find  a  counterpart  to  the 
dog  he  had  loved  so  well  and  had  only  shortly  before 
found  one.  Then  he  bent  down  and  fondled  the  dog 
and  put  him  through  all  his  tricks  and  said  the  new 
pet  was  a  great  comfort  to  him. 

I  have  frequently  observed  how  fond  royal  person- 
ages are  of  their  dogs.  It  must  mean  more  to  a  king 
than  to  other  men  to  be  certain  that  there  is  one 
friend  who  does  not  know  that  he  is  a  king,  but  who 
loves  him  for  himself  alone. 

King  Albert  was  really  a  Konig  (king),  that  is,  as 
Carlyle  defined  it,  "a  man  who  can."  He  came  to  the 
throne  as  a  mature  and  experienced  man  upon  the 
death  of  his  father,  the  scholarly  King  Johann.  In  that 
short  campaign  of  1866,  in  which  the  Saxon  army 
joined  Austria,  he  commanded  the  rear  guard  and 
conducted  the  retreat,  after  the  disastrous  defeat  of 
Koniggratz,  with  such  ability  as  to  win  hearty  com- 
mendation from  both  Austrian  and  Prussian  military 
authorities.  In  the  war  of  1870  he  commanded  the 
twelfth  army  corps,  which  was  composed  of  Saxons. 
Moltke  said  of  him  that  the  "Crown  Prince  of  Sax- 
ony was  the  only  one  among  the  royal  princes  who 
understood  at  once  how  to  command  and  how  to 

(264) 


obey."  His  military  career  was  so  brilliant  that  the 
Czar  appointed  him  a  Field  Marshal  of  the  Russian 
Army  and  he  bore  the  golden  baton,  which  the  Czar 
had  given  him,  right  royally  when  he  made  his  tri- 
umphal entry  into  Dresden  at  the  head  of  his  troops 
at  the  close  of  the  war.  He  was  a  strikingly  handsome 
man  and  of  soldierly  and  dignified  but  graceful  car- 
riage. He  displayed  great  tact  under  trying  conditions 
during  those  years  in  which  Saxony  was  being  Prus- 
sianized, evidently  feeling  that  it  could  not  be  pre- 
vented, but  in  his  heart  regretting  the  passing  of  the 
simple,  kindly  Saxon  spirit.  I  remember  one  evening 
when  we  were  at  a  party  at  a  Saxon  house,  how  every 
officer  present  excused  himself  to  his  hostess  that  he 
was  obliged  to  appear  before  her  in  the  detested  Prus- 
sian uniform  and  "Pickelhaube,"  the  latter  having 
just  become  obligatory. 

The  beautiful  Queen  Carola  was  one  of  the  last 
descendants  of  the  Swedish  royal  house  of  Vasa,  that 
of  the  great  Gustavus  Adolphus.  She  was  indeed  a 
queen  in  nobility  of  soul  and  gracious  kindliness  but 
she  cared  little  for  the  ceremonious  festivities  of  the 
court.  Indeed,  I  believe  she  was  not  peculiar  among 
royal  personages  in  this  respect.  One  day  she  told  me, 
in  explaining  why  she  had  suddenly  cancelled  an  ap- 
pointment with  me,  that  she  awoke  in  the  morning 
with  a  fearful  headache,  the  usual  consequence  of  at- 

(265 ) 


tending  a  state  ball.  I  said,  "That  is  a  great  price  to 
pay  for  a  pleasure."  She  answered  with  a  demure 
smile,  "It  is  not  exactly  a  pleasure." 

The  Queen  was  very  benevolent.  Her  fortune  was 
not  great  for  a  queen,  but  she  spent  the  income  lav- 
ishly in  charity.  The  court  physician,  Dr.  Carus, 
whom  Leonard  may  perhaps  dimly  remember,  told 
me  that  Marion  Simms,  who  at  the  height  of  his  fame 
used  to  spend  a  part  of  the  year  in  Paris,  was  called  in 
consultation  to  Carola  when  she  was  Crown  Princess. 
They  found  upon  his  departure  that  he  expected  a  fee 
of  ten  thousand  francs,  and  it  was  only  with  consider- 
able difficulty  that  the  money  could  be  raised.  This 
occurred  in  the  lavish  days  of  the  third  Napoleon  and 
when  the  court  of  Saxony  was  on  a  simpler  basis  than 
under  the  German  Empire.  The  fee  was  moderate  for 
so  great  a  medical  authority,  considering  the  tedious 
trip  of  those  days  and  the  somewhat  prolonged  stay  it 
necessitated,  but  it  seemed  fabulously  high  to  the 
Saxon  physicians  as  well  as  to  the  court,  which  was 
then  much  as  Motley  describes  it  in  his  letters. 

The  "Old  Addah,"  as  Leonard  called  his  nurse,  the 
good,  faithful,  devoted,  loving  and  lovable  woman 
who  had  charge  of  him  all  through  his  childhood,  and 
of  Grace  and  Nora  also  for  several  years,  finally,  after 
long  service  with  us,  decided  to  take  her  well-deserved 
rest.  She  had  always  been  a  nurse  and  had  a  wonderful 

{266) 


record  of  service.  She  thought  the  interest  of  her  sav- 
ings would  be  sufficient  to  provide  for  her  old  age.  I 
took  her  to  my  bank  to  deposit  the  last  portion  of  the 
money  she  had  earned  with  us  and  which  had  accumu- 
lated for  some  time.  It  was  a  large  and  motley  collec- 
tion :  gold,  bank  notes,  a  great  quantity  of  silver  and  a 
lot  of  copper  coins.  Von  W.,  a  characteristic  Saxon 
Junker,  chanced  to  be  standing  by  as  the  good  old 
woman  arranged  her  money  on  the  counter  and  was 
evidently  shocked  that  a  woman  of  her  class  should 
have  so  much  ready  cash.  He  hovered  over  it  with  the 
same  greed  in  his  eyes  which  his  mediaeval  forefathers 
may  have  shown  when  despoiling  a  Jew  trader,  and 
demanded  how  she  came  by  it.  With  great  dignity  she 
asserted  that  she  had  earned  it  in  honourable  service 
and  indicated  me  as  her  employer.  Von  W.  knew  me 
and  so  he  smiled  and  congratulated  the  good  woman, 
but  I  fancied  I  heard  him  mutter  as  he  turned  away, 
that  these  foreigners  were  ruining  honest  Saxon  serv- 
ants. When  Addah  went  to  live  with  her  daughter,  her 
money  diminished  under  the  demands  of  the  family, 
and  so  she  came  back  to  town  and  lived  as  best  she 
could  until  she  could  be  received  into  a  home  for  aged 
servants.  At  Christmas  time  the  Queen  used  to  visit 
the  inmates  of  this  home,  which  was  under  her  especial 
protection,  climbing  up  the  four  flights  of  stairs  to 
speak  words  of  comfort  to  them  and  deliver  Christmas 

(267) 


gifts.  Nothing  could  better  show  the  inexhaustible 
kindness  of  that  queenly  heart.  Addah  was  very  happy 
in  this  asylum  in  her  old  age.  She  once  told  me  that 
before  she  entered  the  home,  she  prayed  that  she 
might  die,  fearing  she  might  outlive  the  friends  who 
cared  for  her;  but  since  she  was  established  there,  she 
prayed  that  she  might  live  to  enjoy  her  comforts  and 
privileges. 

It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  a  royal  personage  can 
live  a  Hfe  of  ease.  One  morning  having  been  called  to 
visit  the  Queen  at  the  palace,  I  found  her  poring  over 
her  programme  for  the  day.  Every  engagement  was 
clearly  written  out  and  I  had  never  imagined  that  a 
day  could  contain  so  many  hours  and  subdivisions  of 
hours.  I  hastened  with  my  treatment  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, that  the  Queen  might  not,  on  my  account,  fail  in 
that  "punctuality  which  is  the  politeness  of  princes" 
and,  as  soon  as  she  had  left  the  room,  hurriedly  col- 
lected some  of  my  instruments  which  had  been 
wrapped  in  tissue  paper  and  were  lying  on  the  Queen's 
desk.  After  I  had  packed  them  I  saw,  in  an  obscure 
place  on  the  desk,  what  I  took  to  be  one  of  my  small 
diamond  disks  wrapped  up  in  tissue  paper.  I  thrust  it 
into  my  waistcoat  pocket  and,  at  the  close  of  the  day 
when  my  last  patient  had  gone,  I  took  it  out  and 
found  it  to  be  an  exquisite  miniature  in  ivory  of  the 
poet  Korner,  the  friend  of  Schiller.  I  at  once  sent  it  to 

(  268  ) 


the  lady  in  attendance  upon  the  Queen  with  an  ex- 
planatory note,  and  at  the  next  visit  to  the  palace,  I 
told  Her  Majesty  of  the  Californian  politician  who 
was  reputed  to  have  said  to  his  constituents  whom  he 
was  soliciting  to  return  him  to  Congress:  "I  love  to 
steal,  I  know  how  to  steal,  and  if  you  select  me,  I  will 
engage  to  bring  back  all  I  am  able  to  steal  in  Congress 
and  spend  it  among  you." 

In  the  machinery  devised  to  save  the  time  and  se- 
cure the  convenience  of  royalties,  there  is  much  which 
works  cumbrously.  Once  when  I  was  treating  the 
Grand  Duchess  of  Mecklenburg  at  her  palace  in 
Schwerin,  I  found  her  one  morning  feeling  so  ill  that 
I  refused  to  give  her  a  treatment  until  she  had  had  a 
pony  of  brandy.  She  rang  a  bell  and  gave  the  order  to 
one  of  her  women.  Then  she  resigned  herself  to  rest; 
for,  she  said,  in  such  a  large  house  and  with  so  compli- 
cated a  service,  it  would  take  some  time.  And  then  she 
explained  through  how  many  hands  the  order  would 
have  to  pass  and  how  many  signatures  would  be  re- 
quired, from  the  Hofmarschal  down  to  the  Cellarer, 
before  the  brandy  could  be  obtained,  and  then  it 
would  have  to  pass  back  again  through  all  these  stages 
before  she  could  drink  it.  I  bethought  me  of  the  King 
of  Spain,  who  died  of  apoplexy  before  the  proper  offi- 
cial could  be  found  to  place  a  screen  between  His 
Majesty  and  the  blazing  fire,  and  I  immensely  wanted 


to  ask  her  if  it  was  true  that,  when  the  reigning  Czar 
was  a  child  and  was  taken  ill  at  night  at  one  of  the 
minor  imperial  palaces,  and  brandy  was  ordered  for 
him,  a  bottle  of  brandy  had  been  charged  everyday  for 
the  stomach-ache  of  the  Czarewich  ever  afterwards  un- 
til the  Czar  came  there  again  in  his  full  manhood  and 
chanced  to  have  the  accounts  looked  over.  But  as  she 
was  born  a  Russian  archduchess  and  I  did  not  then 
know  what  sort  of  an  Imperial  Highness  she  was,  I  pru- 
dently refrained.  She  chatted  pleasantly  during  the  half 
hour  of  waiting,  and  when  something  was  said  about  the 
island  of  Cyprus,  which  the  English  were  then  redeem- 
ing, I  told  her  the  ancien  t  s  tory  of  the  good  Greek  Bishop 
Spiridion  of  Cyprus  and  that  of  his  "daughter  faithful 
unto  death."  It  was  new  to  her,  but  I  remember  not 
only  her  interest  in  the  charming  story,  but  her  delight 
in  finding  that  an  American  knew  anything  of  the  his- 
tory and  traditions  of  the  Greek  church.  Since  you  also 
may  not  know  the  story,  I  will  here  give  its  outlines. 

There  came  one  day  to  Spiridion  a  Syrian,  who 
said:  "Holy  Father,  I  am  obliged  to  return  to  Syria. 
I  dare  not  take  with  me  my  jewels,  for  the  purple  sea 
is  as  treacherous  as  a  serpent,  and  upon  land  there  are 
men  more  dangerous  than  the  sea.  I  beg  you  therefore 
to  keep  for  me  my  treasure  until  my  return." 

Spiridion  replied:  "That  I  cannot  do,  but  you  may 
entrust  it  to  my  daughter,  who  is  our  island's  treas- 

(  270  ) 


urer  and  of  whom  the  people  say,  were  she  to  prove 
false,  the  sun  itself  would  shine  no  more  in  heaven." 
The  daughter  was  summoned.  She  promised  the 
Syrian  to  keep  his  treasure  in  hfe  and  death. 

After  a  long  absence  the  Syrian  returned,  but  upon 
landing  he  found  the  whole  island  in  deepest  mourn- 
ing. The  daughter  of  the  bishop,  not  more  beloved  by 
the  afflicted  father  than  by  all  the  people,  was  dead 
and  her  body  was  lying  in  state  in  the  palace.  He  has- 
tened to  the  palace,  found  the  bishop  and  essayed  to 
comfort  him  in  the  soft  cadences  of  oriental  speech. 
But  the  bishop  at  last  said:  "Oh  Syrian,  thou  hast  not 
yet  heard  the  worst;  all  else  is  in  order,  but  thy  treas- 
ure cannot  be  found !" 

The  Syrian  replied:  "Holy  Father,  did  not  this 
noble  woman  promise  to  guard  my  treasure  in  life  and 
in  death  ?  Surely,  she  has  not  forgotten  her  word. 
Lead  me  to  her." 

They  came  and  the  Syrian  knelt  for  a  time  in 
prayer.  Then  he  arose  and  gazed  upon  the  graceful 
form,  the  beautiful  face,  to  which  the  majesty  of 
death  had  lent  unearthly  loveliness,  and  he  said:  "Oh 
saintly  maiden,  give  me  a  sign  that  thou  hast  kept  thy 
word." 

Then  a  miracle  was  wrought.  The  dark  eyes  opened, 
the  pale  lips  spoke:  "The  gems  lie  hidden  in  the  gar- 
den wall.  God  bless  thee,  Father,  for  thy  constant 

(271 ) 


love.  God  bless  thee,  Syrian,  for  thy  faith  in  me."  And 
the  eyes  closed  to  open  again  only  in  Paradise. 

It  was  upon  this  occasion  that  I  acquired  the  copy 
of  Murillo's  Immaculate  Conception  which  you  will 
so  often  have  seen  in  the  library  in  the  Walpurgis 
Strasse  and  afterwards  in  the  blue  salon  at  Thorwald. 
The  Duchess  was  amiably  anxious  that  I  should  not 
be  bored,  since  I  had  to  stay  for  several  days,  and, 
amongst  other  things  advised  me  to  visit  the  picture 
gallery.  There  I  found  this  copy,  which  had  just  been 
finished.  The  artist  was  a  lady,  connected  in  some  way 
with  the  ducal  court,  who  had  studied  painting  seri- 
ously in  Paris  and  elsewhere.  The  picture  was  for  sale 
and  I  was  so  charmed  with  it  that  I  bought  it  at  once. 
The  next  day  the  Duchess,  having  heard  of  the  pur- 
chase, told  me  that  her  father-in-law  had  been  long 
in  Madrid  as  a  young  man.  Of  all  the  wonderful  paint- 
ings in  the  Spanish  collection,  this  he  admired  most 
and  vainly  tried  to  buy  it.  At  last  he  sought  out  the 
best  artist  in  Spain  for  this  purpose  and  ordered  a 
copy  to  be  exactly  like  the  original  in  every  particular. 
From  this  copy  the  one  I  bought  was  obtained,  and 
the  whole  court  said  it  could  be  distinguished  from  the 
original  only  by  its  freshness.  The  Duchess  offered  to 
have  the  two  pictures  placed  side  by  side,  so  I  could 
compare  them,  but  I  could  not  consent,  since  this 
would  entail  the  removal  of  the  Grand  Duke's  picture. 

(  272  ) 


She  took  me  to  the  great  "study"  of  the  recently  de- 
ceased Duke.  The  picture  hung  in  a  fine  hght  on  the 
wall  opposite  his  desk  where,  whenever  he  looked  up, 
he  could  see  it.  I  wondered  if  the  influence  of  the  pic- 
ture might  not  have  contributed  to  the  qualities  of 
character  which  caused  his  people  to  so  completely 
love  and  trust  him.  In  the  war  of  '66  he  at  once  mobil- 
ized his  army  and  put  it  at  the  disposal  of  Prussia.  In 
the  war  of  '70  he  was  among  the  most  capable  and  de- 
voted of  the  German  princes. 

After  the  Empire  was  founded  and  the  constitution 
was  formed,  he  ordered  his  people  also  to  accept  a  con- 
stitution, but  they  refused.  They  said:  "Landesvater, 
we  are  happy,  prosperous  and  contented  under  your 
rule  and  we  won't  be  bothered  with  a  constitution." 
At  last  he  was  obliged  to  force  them,  between  files  of 
police  and  soldiers,  to  go  to  the  polls  and  formally  ac- 
cept the  gift  of  their  liberties  and  learn  how  to  vote. 

I  have  heard  the  common  people  speak  of  him  with 
yearning,  calling  him  unser  grosser  Ferstorbener  ("our 
great  departed").  There  could  have  been  no  better 
example  of  the  survival  of  the  feudal  spirit  among  the 
Germans  than  these  simple  Mecklenburg  people  have 
displayed.  Through  what  discipline  of  misfortune 
must  the  whole  German  people  pass,  even  here  in 
America  where  they  have  not  shown  anything  like  the 
pohtical  capacity  which  one  would  have  been  justified 

(  273  ) 


in  expecting  considering  their  numbers,  education  and 
wealth,  before  they  will  be  able  to  achieve  and  exer- 
cise reasonable  self-government. 

The  heir  of  this  able  monarch  I  had  known  when  he 
was  a  student,  I  think  at  the  Vitzthum  Gymnasium, 
but  before  Leonard's  time.  He  suffered  greatly  from 
asthma  and,  after  the  death  of  his  father,  began  to 
spend  much  of  his  time  on  the  Riviera,  where  he  could 
be  fairly  comfortable,  but  this  arrangement  was  not 
ideal,  either  for  the  ducal  pair  or  for  the  government 
of  the  dukedom. 

In  the  eighties  I  began  to  take  a  more  intelligent  in- 
terest in  European  history  and  politics.  In  my  scanty 
leisure  I  read  anew  the  "Dechne  and  Fall  of  the  Ro- 
man Empire"  and  such  books  as  "The  History  of 
European  Morals  from  Augustus  to  Charlemagne.'* 
While  never  doubting  the  ultimate  triumph  of  repub- 
lican institutions,  it  began  to  seem  probable  to  me 
that  an  interregnum  of  imperialism  might  be  neces- 
sary to  the  political  education  of  the  people  of  Ger- 
many. I  felt  that  a  moral  alliance,  such  as  existed  to  a 
great  degree  between  America  and  England  since  the 
passions  aroused  by  the  Civil  War  had  subsided, 
might  in  time  become  possible  with  Germany  also,  for 
I  had  come  to  have  great  admiration  and  affection  for 
the  kindly  people  amongst  whom  we  dwelt.  I  even 
wrote  and  spoke  upon  the  subject,  both  in  English 

(  274  ) 


and  German  and  tried  to  do  what  I  could  to  interpret 
the  spirit  of  America  to  my  German  friends.* 

Eighteen  hundred  and  eighty-eight  was  the  year  of 
the  three  Kaisers  and  marked,  although  we  compre- 
hended it  not,  a  turning  point  in  the  course  of  history. 

The  eighties  were  also  marked  by  Miller's  illumi- 
nating researches  in  dental  subjects  and  by  the  death 
of  my  beloved  friend.  Dr.  Frank  Abbot,  one  of  the 
very  few  men  with  whom  I  was  ever  really  intimate. 
His  society  was  most  congenial  and  I  admired  and 
loved  him  so  greatly  that  the  city  in  which  he  lived, 
despite  Berlin's  growth  and  general  interest,  has  never 
been  attractive  to  me  since.  Indeed,  for  several  years 
I  could  not  endure  even  to  pass  through  the  city. 

In  1887  Leonard  graduated  from  the  Sheffield 
Scientific  School  and  came  over  to  visit  us  at  once.  He 
was  rather  young  to  begin  life,  but  we  talked  over  the 
project  of  farming  on  a  large  scale  and  thought  it 
might  be  practicable.  Together  we  made  a  journey  to 
Holland,  saw  some  of  the  cities  and  many  of  the 
horses  and  cattle  in  that  country  largely  rescued  from 
the  sea.  At  Amsterdam  I  took  Leonard  to  see  the  fire 
department,  which  I  had  seen  several  years  before 
with  much  interest.  At  that  time,  the  inspector  who 
showed  me  about  told  me,  when  I  wondered  at  the 
open  bar  in  the  club  house  in  which  the  men  on  duty 

*See  Appendix,  note  10. 

(    275   ) 


lived  and  from  which  every  fireman  might  drink 
freely  whatever  he  chose  to  order,  that  they  had  little 
drunkenness.  The  penalty  for  getting  drunk  once  was 
reprimand  and  fine.  For  the  second  offence,  discharge 
from  the  force  and  loss  of  right  to  a  pension.  He  as- 
sured me  that  but  very  few  men  had  ever  fallen  a  sec- 
ond time.  The  house  was  admirably  appointed.  There 
were  reading  and  writing  rooms,  billiard  tables  and 
card  rooms,  and  the  beds  in  the  second  story  were  so 
arranged  that,  when  the  alarm  sounded,  a  man  could 
jump  instantly  into  his  uniform  and  boots,  they  being 
arranged  for  the  purpose,  and  slide  down  a  pole  to  the 
floor  below.  In  a  few  seconds  all  were  at  their  posts. 
He  sounded  the  alarm  and,  I  believe,  it  was  within  ten 
seconds  that  the  horses  were  harnessed  and  every  man 
in  his  place. 

Upon  my  visit  with  Leonard,  I  asked  the  inspector 
if  any  change  had  been  made  in  the  punishment  for 
drunkenness  and  he  answered  that  the  extreme  pen- 
alty of  discharge  for  the  first  offense  had  been  inaugu- 
rated a  few  years  ago  and  there  had  not  been  a  single 
case  of  drunkenness  since.  Later  he  showed  me  the 
long  list  of  men  waiting  for  a  vacancy,  some  of  whom, 
indeed,  we  saw,  and  a  very  fine  lot  they  were.  The 
service  was  very  popular  and  the  city  had  its  pick  of 
the  best  men,  for  good  wages  were  paid  and  fair  pen- 
sions for  the  men  and  their  families. 

(276) 


At  my  first  visit  Amsterdam  was  very  proud  of  its 
prison,  founded  upon  the  Pennsylvania  system  of  soli- 
tary confinement.  I  was  asked  to  visit  it  and  was  much 
impressed  with  the  apparent  efficiency  of  the  disci- 
pline. Every  man  was  being  taught  a  handicraft  which 
might  be  the  means  of  giving  him  a  living  when  he 
should  be  released.  The  most  severe  punishment  was 
confinement  in  the  underground  cell.  The  inspector 
told  me  the  most  hardened  offender  could  not  endure 
it  more  than  two  hours.  The  cell  was  deep  in  the  foun- 
dations of  the  prison.  It  was  well  ventilated,  but  there 
was  no  ray  of  light  and  not  a  sound  could  be  heard.  I 
asked  to  be  left  alone  in  the  cell  and  to  be  called  for 
after  a  time,  and  they  shut  the  door  and  went  away.  It 
really  was  horrible.  The  stillness  was  profound.  I  could 
hear  the  beating  of  my  heart,  but  nothing  else,  and 
when  they  returned,  after  a  scant  quarter  of  an  hour, 
I  understood  what  an  awful  punishment  such  confine- 
ment must  be  for  a  man  with  a  guilty  soul. 

Leonard  soon  returned  to  America  and  investigated 
places  for  farming,  but  eventually  went  into  breeding 
horses,  on  a  small  scale,  at  Lexington,  in  the  heart  of 
the  blue-grass  region  of  Kentucky.  In  the  spring  of 
1900,  I  went  over  to  take  counsel  with  him  and  we 
both  soon  concluded  that  it  was  not  a  promising  un- 
dertaking and  decided  to  give  it  up. 

When  I  first  arrived  in  Lexington,  all  the  people  of 

(  277  ) 


importance  came  at  once  to  call  upon  me  and  over- 
whelmed me  with  attentions.  They  told  me  with  one 
accord  that  Leonard  was  just  the  sort  of  young  man 
they  wanted  to  keep  with  them  and  begged  me  to  let 
him  stay.  They  entertained  me  according  to  the  best 
traditions  of  Southern  hospitality  and  every  hour  was 
filled  with  some  new  and  pleasant  experience.  Race 
week  occurred  during  my  stay  and  famous  sportsmen, 
and  even  more  famous  horses,  thronged  the  club  and 
the  stables.  It  was  a  refreshing  contrast  to  the  more 
formal  sporting  events  in  Europe,  for,  while  there  was 
less  of  the  glitter  of  the  "sport  of  kings,"  there  was 
more  hearty  enjoyment  as  well  as  good  fellowship,  for 
the  people  were  like  one  great  family. 

Among  the  first  to  call  upon  me,  was  a  man  who  had 
been  living  in  Dresden  when  the  Civil  War  broke  out 
and  had  hastily  departed  to  serve  in  the  Confederate 
army.  He  had  known  my  lawyer.  Dr.  Lehmann,  he  of 
the  crooked  nose  which  had  been  cut  off  in  a  student's 
duel  and  imperfectly  stitched  on  again.  They  had 
been  friends  and  had  kept  up  a  correspondence  for  a 
few  years,  and  he  was  delighted  to  hear  what  I  could 
tell  him  about  Lehmann  and  of  others  whom  he  had 
known  in  Dresden.  One  evening,  when  we  went  to 
make  our  parting  call  and  thank  him  for  all  his  kind 
attentions,  we  found  him  in  a  reminiscent  mood  and 
inclined  to  talk  of  the  good  old  days  of  slavery.  He 

(  278  ) 


concluded  by  assuring  us  that  the  best  sport  he  had 
ever  known  was  "hunting  niggers  with  bloodhounds." 

During  my  stay,  Senator  Beck  died  and  his  body 
was  brought  to  Lexington  for  burial.  Senator  Evarts 
of  New  York  was  the  head  of  the  committee  chosen  to 
represent  the  Senate  at  the  funeral.  Before  he  left  for 
Washington,  he  was  invited  to  come  to  the  club  and 
he  came  immediately  after  the  funeral.  The  members 
surrounded  him  and  talked,  at  first  seriously,  being 
still  in  the  shadow  of  the  sad  event;  but  at  last  an  im- 
pulsive gentleman  suddenly  changed  the  course  of 
conversation  by  asking:  "Senator,  what  would  you 
like  to  drink?"  Evarts  solemnly  replied  in  his  best 
senatorial  manner,  "I  recollect  in  my  youthful  days 
that  there  was  a  drink  much  in  favor  in  the  South 
which  was  called,  if  my  memory  serves  me  correctly, 
Mint  Julep."  We  all  took  mint  julep  and  I  think  were 
also  reminded  of  the  reply  which  Evarts  was  reported 
to  have  made  to  a  learned  English  Cockney  judge 
whom  he  was  once  entertaining  in  New  York.  The 
Englishman  said  that  he  had  been  much  interested  in 
all  he  had  learned  about  American  law,  but  there  was 
a  department  of  English  law  of  which  he  had  found  no 
trace  in  America.  "What's  that?"  asked  Evarts.  "The 
law  of  h'entail."  Evarts  flashed  back,  "We  have  some- 
thing much  better  than  that — cocktail  !" 

It  grieved  my  dear  son  greatly  to  part  from  the  gen- 

(  279  ) 


erous  people  who  had  shown  him  so  much  kindness 
during  the  two  years  he  had  spent  in  Kentucky;  but, 
when  he  had  been  convinced  that  it  was  best,  he 
quickly  put  his  affairs  in  order,  paid  a  last  visit  to  his 
dear  horses  and  colts  and  went  off  with  me  to  Cali- 
fornia. 

Your  mother's  cousin,  Joseph  Folsom,  was  living 
in  San  Francisco,  where  he  was  one  of  the  managers 
of  the  Land  Office  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad.  I 
determined  to  consult  him  about  placing  Leonard  in 
business,  for  which  I  began  to  see  he  was  better 
adapted  than  for  such  an  enterprise  as  I  previously 
had  in  view. 

It  was  a  wonderful  journey.  Neither  of  us  knew  the 
far  West  and  the  Pacific  states,  and  to  see  for  the  first 
time  the  great  Prairies  and  cross  the  Rockies  was  an 
experience  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  Russian  Steppe, 
as  I  remembered  it  between  Moscow  and  Odessa, 
seemed  small  in  comparison  to  the  mighty  American 
plain  and  the  contrast  between  the  Russian  peasant 
and  the  independent  American  farmer  filled  me  with 
fresh  pride  and  gratitude  that  our  forefathers  had  won 
and  consecrated  this  great  continent  to  become  the 
hope  and  refuge  of  all  the  desolate  and  oppressed. 

As  I  am  writing  these  words  in  mid- July,  19 17, 
comes  the  news  that  the  lately  born  Russian  Repub- 
lic, after  only  a  few  weeks  of  spiritual  intoxication 

(  280  ) 


upon  suddenly  securing  her  liberty,  has  joined  Amer- 
ica in  dedicating  herself  unreservedly  to  the  overthrow 
of  Prussian  autocracy  and  to  making  "the  world  safe 
for  democracy,"  and  has  won  her  first  success  in  arms 
against  the  common  enemy.  How  has  that  brief  period 
of  rejoicing  been  changed  to  despondency  through 
subsequent  events! 

Leonard  and  I  stayed  over  at  a  place  in  Colorado 
for  a  night,  that  we  might  not  lose  some  of  the  best 
scenery.  I  have  forgotten  the  name  of  the  place,  but 
I  can  never  forget  the  glorious  sunrise  of  the  next 
morning.  There  was  but  one  hotel  and  that  was  a  part 
of  the  railroad  station.  Our  room  had  only  one  bed, 
but  Leonard  wrapped  himself  in  a  blanket  and  slept 
soundly  on  the  floor,  as  only  the  young  can  sleep.  The 
shunting  of  the  trains  continued  all  night  and  to  me 
sleep  was  impossible  and  so,  while  there  was  yet  but 
the  promise  of  dawn,  I  went  out  and  found  a  rough, 
steep  roadway  up  the  hill  out  through  the  forest.  Pres- 
ently it  grew  lighter  and  suddenly  I  came,  at  a  turn  of 
the  road,  where  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dome  of  the 
great  range  of  snow-clad  mountains,  glowing  in  "ce- 
lestial rosy  red."  I  cried  aloud  for  joy.  In  that  cloud- 
less air  the  mountain,  even  at  so  great  a  distance,  was 
distinct  in  outline.  There  were  no  bare  ribs  of  rock, 
but  the  snow  descended  in  an  unbroken  line  to  the 
great  bulk  below.  But  it  was  chiefly  the  colour  which 

(  281  ) 


held  me  in  thrall.  The  Alpine  glow  which  I  had  seen  in 
Switzerland  was  beautiful,  but  this  was  as  a  beacon 
lighting  the  way  to  Heaven. 

Indeed,  the  American  mountains  have  a  grandeur 
and  beauty  peculiarly  their  own.  I  remember  particu- 
larly two  famous  mountains,  Tacoma  and  Orizaba, 
with  especial  pleasure.  Leonard  and  I  came  to  the 
town,  Tacoma,  late  one  afternoon  and  went  out  for  a 
walk  just  at  sunset.  We  noticed  what  seemed  to  be  a 
mass  of  rose-coloured  clouds  and  stood  gazing  to  see 
them  fade,  but  the  form  did  not  vary,  and  we  asked  a 
passer  by  if  this  beautiful  object  were  a  cloud  or  a 
mountain.  He  answered,  *Tt's  Mt.  Tacoma."  So  we 
stood  and  gazed  upon  what  was  in  reality  the  moun- 
tain of  which  every  child  dreams.  Tacoma,  the  town, 
is  on  the  coast  and  the  mountain,  which  I  hope  will 
always  keep  its  beautiful  Indian  name,  rises  in  the  far 
distance  from  the  plain,  giving  a  clear  vision  of  its 
mighty  bulk  from  base  to  summit.  It  is  true  that  * 'dis- 
tance lends  enchantment  to  the  view."  Swiss  moun- 
tains are  often  harsh  and  oppressive  when  seen  near 
at  hand,  where  one  sees  the  unashamed  naked  rock 
staring  out  between  the  masses  of  snow,  and  even 
Mont  Blanc  would  be  more  truly  the  "monarch  of 
mountains"  were  it  not  that  the  observer  is  himself 
standing  at  so  great  a  distance  above  the  level  of  the 
sea  as  to  be  somewhat  disappointed  at  finding  the 

(  282  ) 


famous  mountain  less  lofty  to  his  first  view  than  he 
had  expected. 

Leonard  and  I  spent  three  weeks  in  San  Francisco 
and  every  moment  was  full  of  enjoyment.  We  stayed 
at  the  Cosmos  Club,  Cousin  Joe  being  one  of  its  offi- 
cers, and  speedily  became  quite  at  home  in  the  most 
delightful  club  I  had  ever  known.  Its  membership  was 
cosmopolitan  and  there  were  many  professional  men 
as  well  as  men  of  affairs  among  its  number.  The  serv- 
ice was  Japanese,  with  the  exception  of  the  chief  stew- 
ard, who  was  American,  and  I  have  never  seen  service 
more  perfect  in  any  great  European  house  I  have  ever 
visited.  The  table  service  was  absolutely  noiseless  and 
the  flower  decorations  excited  my  constant  admira- 
tion, for  they  were  as  varied  as  they  were  tasteful. 
Table  d'hote  lunch  and  dinner  were  daily  served  and 
the  members  all  seemed  to  count  the  day  lost  when 
they  were  obliged  to  dine  anywhere  else.  I  observed 
that  the  men  left  money  and  jewelry  about  carelessly, 
but  I  was  told  the  servants  were  perfectly  trustworthy, 
for  they  had  a  professional  reputation  to  sustain. 
There  had  been  a  case  sometime  before,  however,  of 
taking  on  a  Jap  who  was  a  new  comer  and  began  to 
steal.  His  fellow  servants  found  it  out  and  denounced 
him  to  the  police,  who  arrested  him  and  he  was  tried 
and  sent  to  prison.  They  who  knew  the  Japanese  told 
me  the  man  could  ever  afterwards  be  depended  upon 

(  283  ) 


never  to  steal  again  or,  in  any  way,  to  violate  the  rules 
of  his  guild,  and  I  was  half  tempted  to  take  him  with 
me  back  to  Dresden,  since  the  governor  of  the  state 
promised  to  pardon  him  if  I  could  take  him  away;  but, 
upon  mature  reflection,  I  concluded  that  he  would  not 
be  contented  in  a  country  where  he  had  no  fellow 
countrymen,  and  there  were  then  no  Japanese  in 
Dresden. 

All  the  Californians  we  came  to  know  were  more 
than  delightful.  Their  hospitality  was  unbounded  and 
their  business  enterprise  and  confidence  in  the  superior 
richness  and  boundless  future  of  their  state  were  in- 
spiring. The  descendants  of  the  early  settlers  were 
physically  a  very  fine  people  and  all  the  later  settlers 
seemed  to  have  gained  in  every  respect  by  residence  in 
that  superb  climate. 

Cousin  Joe  took  me  to  see  the  Mclvor  vineyards. 
I  had  found  the  table  wine  served  at  the  club  delicious 
and  so  he  asked  Mclvor  to  show  me  how  "Linda 
Vista"  was  cultivated.  With  great  acumen  this  man 
had  bought  land  once  belonging  to  the  Mission  San 
Jose,  thinking  the  good  old  Spanish  monks,  like  their 
European  brethren,  would  have  nosed  out  the  best 
place  to  grow  the  vine.  It  proved  to  be  correct  and  you 
will  remember  that,  for  years,  I  was  accustomed. to 
order  two  casks  of  that  wine  sent  to  me  by  sailing  ship 
every  year,  and  how  we  came  to  be  even  more  fond  of 

(  284  ) 


it  than  of  French  Bordeaux.  Linda  Vista  was  made 
from  the  Bordeaux  grape  grafted  upon  the  American 
stock.  Alas !  poor  Mclvor  passed  away,  and  since  his 
death  his  vineyard  has  perished  also. 

In  San  Francisco  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Dr. 
Younger,  who  had  a  great  reputation  in  some  depart- 
ments of  dentistry,  especially  in  transplanting  teeth 
and  in  the  treatment  of  pyorrhea.  Later  he  settled  in 
Paris,  where  he  became  a  beloved  and  much  honoured 
member  of  our  circle  and  made  a  European  reputa- 
tion. Last  month,  in  June,  1917,  your  mother  and  I 
met  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Younger  in  New  York  and  they 
gave  us  the  most  recent  news  of  our  dear  colleagues  in 
Paris,  all  of  whom  are  doing  great  service  either  in  the 
American  Ambulance,  or  in  some  other  way,  to  alle- 
viate the  misery  and  suffering  caused  by  this  fearful 
war. 

From  San  Francisco  we  went  to  Vancouver,  where 
we  took  the  Canadian  Pacific  for  Montreal.  I  had  en- 
gaged a  drawing-room  for  the  journey  and  was  very 
desirous  of  not  missing  the  train,  for  comfortable  ac- 
commodations for  so  long  a  journey  were  not  easily 
obtained;  but  we  had  a  few  hours  to  spare  and  engaged 
a  carriage  to  drive  us  to  the  famous  natural  park  a 
few  miles  away,  which  had  many  great  trees  such  as 
we  had  not  seen  even  in  Oregon,  where  "the  trees  are 
so  tall  that  a  man  has  to  look  twice  to  see  the  top.'* 

(  285  ) 


Upon  returning  we  had  only  an  hour  to  spare  and,  it 
being  Sunday,  the  hotels  were  not  prepared  to  serve 
meals  out  of  hours;  but  we  thought  we  ought  to  have 
"a  square,"  so  I  directed  our  driver  to  take  us  to  the 
best  restaurant,  and  he  pulled  up  at  a  place  with  a 
Polish  sign.  I  at  once  saw  that  the  host  was  a  character 
and,  addressing  him  in  German,  ordered  the  best 
lunch  he  could  prepare  and  asked  him  to  get  out  the 
best  bottle  of  Rhine  wine  he  had  and  to  join  us  in  a 
glass.  He  set  everybody  to  work  at  once  and,  while  the 
meal  was  being  prepared,  sat  down  to  talk.  When  we 
told  him  we  were  from  Dresden  and  that  Leonard  was 
born  there,  he  shouted  for  a  coloured  boy  and  bade  him 
drive  like  mad  to  fetch  his  wife  and  daughter  from  a 
distance  to  see  some  strangers  from  her  native  city. 
Then  he  told  us  his  story.  He  was  the  son  of  a  Polish 
soldier  in  the  army  of  Napoleon  who  was  taken  pris- 
oner at  the  battle  of  Leipzig.  His  father  remained  in 
Germany,  married  there  and  his  son  was  born  in  Dres- 
den. He  was  a  young  man  in  the  revolution  of  1848, 
but  he  assured  us  that  he  was  one  of  the  worst  of 
them,  for  his  father  had  been  his  political  mentor. 
When  the  end  came,  he  escaped  to  Switzerland  and 
subsequently  went  to  America.  Europe  was  intoler- 
able to  him,  for  he  alone  knew  what  liberty  meant. 
"True  liberty  could  only  be  founded  upon  a  subject 
race"  and  the  Southern  states  of  America  offered  the 

(  286  ) 


only  fit  refuge  for  his  lofty  soul.  Thither  he  went  and 
there  he  prospered  until  the  Civil  War,  when  he  vol- 
unteered in  the  Confederate  army  and  was  captured 
in  the  last  days  of  Lee's  retreat.  He  said,  when  I  asked 
why  he  did  not  stay  in  the  United  States:  "Oh,  it  was 
well  enough  for  those  born  Americans  to  submit,  but 
not  for  me,  who  had  inherited  the  true  traditions  of 
freedom."  So  he  wandered  to  Vancouver  and  opened  a 
restaurant,  from  which  he  had  made  a  small  fortune. 
He  owned  a  valuable  farm  and  he  implored  us  to  be 
his  guests  there  for  a  week. 

When  his  buxom  wife  came  with  the  daughter,  she 
wept  at  seeing  Leonard,  and  all  three  of  them  were 
overcome  when  we  told  them  that  we  knew  the  fine 
restaurant  on  the  Bautznerstrasse  which  her  father 
had  kept. 

The  journey  to  Montreal  was  delightful.  It  was  the 
best  season  for  seeing  that  splendid  country  and  we 
admired  the  ways  in  which  it  was  being  developed. 
Over  the  Cascades  and  the  Rockies  the  Canadian 
Pacific  railroad  company  had  encountered  especial 
problems,  with  which  they  had  been  obliged  to  tem- 
porize in  building  the  road,  since  there  was  not  money 
enough  to  build  with  European  permanency,  and  also 
time  was  lacking.  There  were  many  miles  of  wooden 
structures  sometimes  two  or  more  tiers  one  upon  an- 
other, of  creaking  viaducts,  which  seemed  to  sway 

(  287  ) 


dangerously  as  the  train  passed  over  them.  The  grades 
were  often  so  steep  that  it  seemed  barely  possible 
for  the  trains  to  ascend  and  there  were  many  sharp 
curves  where  but  slow  progress  could  be  made.  It 
had  been  found  necessary,  on  some  of  these  long 
stretches,  to  place  switches  which  could  be  used  to 
turn  run-away  trains  on  to  a  side  track  which  ran  up 
hill.  The  superintendent  told  me  in  Montreal,  when  I 
expressed  my  pleasure  that  the  pohcy  of  Government 
had  been  so  just  to  the  Indians  as  to  make  good  citizens 
of  them,  that  they  were  most  reliable  switch  tenders 
and  track  inspectors  and  were  preferred  to  white  men 
for  such  purpose  on  long  stretches  in  the  mountains. 

We  were  greatly  impressed  with  the  latent  richness 
of  the  country  as  well  as  with  the  energy  and  resource- 
fulness with  which  its  hardy  inhabitants  were  devel- 
oping it.  I  had  promised  Mr.  Strachey,  the  British 
Minister  to  the  Court  of  Saxony,  in  case  I  went  to 
Canada  to  make  inquiries  about  one  of  his  sons  who 
was  employed  in  one  of  the  chief  Canadian  banks. 
Accordingly  I  looked  up  the  president  of  the  bank  in 
Montreal,  who  not  only  gave  me  good  news  in  regard 
to  young  Strachey,  but  told  me  something  of  the 
policy  of  sending  their  employes,  as  they  had  just 
done  in  his  case,  to  one  of  the  distant  branches  of  the 
bank,  to  get  wider  experience,  and  to  have  a  chance 
to  show  what  they  were  fit  for. 

(  288  ) 


All  that  I  saw  at  this  time,  and  upon  subsequent 
visits  to  Canada,  and  the  acquaintance  which  I  made 
during  many  years  with  British  colonials  at  the  Anglo- 
American  Club  of  Dresden,  where  they  seemed  to  find 
even  more  congenial  society  among  Americans  than 
among  their  brethren  of  the  British  Islands,  partially 
prepared  me  for  the  splendid  showing  the  Anzacs  have 
made  in  the  war. 

This  Dresden  club  was  truly  cosmopolitan.  There 
was  a  quiet  room  where  men  who  cared  little  for 
games  used  to  sit  together  an  hour  or  so  before  dinner 
and  where  the  talk  was  both  amusing  and  enlighten- 
ing. I  remember  an  Australian,  who  had  been  a  pros- 
perous mining  engineer,  telling  us  a  story  of  visiting  a 
mining  camp  somewhere  in  Montana  in  the  early 
times.  He  arrived  at  night  and  went  at  once  to  bed. 
He  had  scarcely  got  to  sleep,  when  he  was  awakened 
by  a  man  rushing  up  the  stairs  rapidly,  entering  the 
next  room  and  locking  and  barricading  the  door.  He 
was  quickly  followed  by  another  man,  who  tried  to 
break  in,  and  when  he  found  that  impossible,  he  emp- 
tied his  revolver  in  shooting  through  the  door  and 
then  walked  off  indulging  in  picturesque  language.  In 
the  morning  the  manager  of  a  mine,  with  whom  our 
friend  had  been  in  correspondence,  called  for  him  to 
drive  him  out  to  inspect  his  work,  where  they  had 
overcome  some  unusual  difficulties.  On  the  way  they 

(  289  ) 


came  upon  a  clump  of  trees  from  whose  branches  the 
lifeless  bodies  of  six  men  were  swinging  by  the  neck. 
The  manager  explained  that  the  Vigilance  Committee 
had  at  last  lost  patience  with  a  lot  of  bad  men  and 
executed  summary  justice  upon  them  during  the 
night,  and  politely  hoped  that  his  visitor  had  not  been 
disturbed  by  the  proceeding.  The  Australian  answered 
that  he  had  heard  some  shooting  at  the  hotel  and  some 
wild  riding  and  shooting  in  the  streets,  but  it  made  him 
feel  quite  at  home  and  so  he  had  slept  refreshingly. 

In  speaking  of  the  kind  and  frank  manner  in  which 
he  had  always  been  received  in  America,  where  every- 
thing of  professional  interest  had  been  thrown  open 
to  his  inspection,  he  said:  "The  finest  country  in  the 
world  is  Australia,  next  comes  America  and  then 
England." 

I  knew  well  an  accomplished  editor  of  an  Australian 
newspaper,  a  man  of  Scottish  origin,  who  lived  for 
some  time  in  Dresden.  One  day  Strachey  called  upon 
me  and  asked  if  I  could  tell  him  anything  about  this 
man,  for  a  letter  had  been  received  from  the  British 
Embassy  in  Constantinople  announcing  the  arrest  of 
this  person  by  the  Turkish  police.  I  assured  Mr. 
Strachey  that  I  not  only  knew  the  gentleman,  but 
that  he  had  told  me  of  his  intended  trip  and  I  had 
commended  him  to  some  of  my  friends  in  Constanti- 
nople and  that  he  was  certainly  all  right.  Later  I 

(  290  ) 


learned  that,  after  having  been  some  time  in  the  en- 
chanting city,  he  went  alone,  after  the  imprudent 
manner  of  his  race,  on  an  expedition  into  the  country. 
He  sat  down  to  sketch  a  romantic  hillside,  not  know- 
ing that  it  was  forbidden.  Suddenly  the  police  fell 
upon  him,  rolled  him  about  in  the  mud  and,  as  he  re- 
sented their  attentions,  tore  his  clothes,  bruised  him 
somewhat  and  brought  him  bound  to  the  chief  police 
station.  There  he  kept  insisting  that  he  should  be 
taken  to  the  British  consul  and  finally  he  was  taken  to 
the  consulate.  The  consul  was  giving  a  man's  dinner 
that  night  and  resented  being  interrupted,  but  finally 
went  down  stairs  and,  seeing  the  plight  of  the  prisoner, 
concluded  it  was  only  another  familiar  case  of  drunken 
sailor  and,  reopening  the  door,  called  to  his  guests  to 
come  down  and  see  what  a  consul  had  to  submit  to, 
and  they  all  came  tumbling  after.  Having  then  an  ap- 
preciative audience,  the  consul  began  to  rail  at  the 
man,  saying  he  was  the  sort  of  creature  who  brought 
disgrace  upon  the  name  of  Englishman.  My  friend  lis- 
tened calmly  and,  when  there  was  opportunity,  pre- 
sented his  card  and  related  the  circumstances.  Then 
he  said:  "Sir,  you  will  order  me  to  be  set  at  liberty  at 
once.  I  shall  return  to  my  hotel  and  await  an  apology 
from  you  up  to  twelve  o'clock  to-morrow  noon.  If  it 
does  not  arrive  by  that  hour,  I  shall  take  the  steamer 
leaving  for  England  at  one  o'clock  and  inform  the 

(  291  ) 


Government  in  what  manner  it  is  served  at  this  con- 
sulate." The  apology  did  not  arrive  and  he  sailed.  He 
remained  three  months  in  London  demanding  redress 
from  the  unsympathetic  Foreign  Office,  and  finally  he 
got  it,  after  threatening  to  have  the  question  taken  up 
in  Parliament  and  ventilating  it  in  Australia.  The 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  told  him  that  there  was  a 
post  just  vacated  to  which  the  offending  consul  should 
naturally  be  promoted,  and  asked  if  it  would  be  satis- 
factory if  the  consul  was  informed  that  in  consequence 
of  this  affair  he  would  not  get  the  promotion.  The 
Australian  accepted,  but  insisted  upon  himself  seeing 
the  dispatch,  that  he  might  be  certain  that  it  was 
written  in  no  ambiguous  language.  I  think  Strachey, 
who  was  of  the  generation  in  which  the  British  For- 
eign Office  was  chiefly  manned  by  those  who  had  aris- 
tocratic connections  and  influence,  and  was  familiar 
with  its  fine  art  of  dilatoriness  and  its  tradition  of  not 
admitting  that  even  its  subordinates  could  blunder, 
rather  enjoyed  seeing  how  it  had  been  taught  the  dan- 
ger of  monkeying  with  an  Australian  editor. 

One  afternoon  an  Englishman  brought  to  our  little 
circle  a  pair  of  earrings  which  his  uncle  had  cut  out  of 
the  ears  of  a  Maori  chief  whom  he  had  slain  in  wild 
New  Zealand  battle.  Just  at  that  time  had  appeared 
Max  Mueller's  letter  to  T^he  Times  apropos  of  the  find- 
ing of  implements  and  ornaments  of  jade  when,  dur- 

(  292  ) 


ing  a  very  dry  season,  one  of  the  Swiss  lakes  had  sub- 
sided to  so  great  a  degree  that  the  habitations  of  pre- 
historic Lake  Dwellers  had  been  discovered.  The  only 
explanation  was  that  they  had  been  brought  from 
Asia  in  the  migration  of  peoples,  since  jade  did  not 
exist  in  Europe.  Mueller  argued  that  this  discovery 
was  less  interesting  than  the  fact  that  the  numerals 
used  every  day  in  European  speech  had  come  down  to 
us  from  Sanscrit.  Our  English  friend,  however,  wanted 
to  know  if  the  earrings  were  really  jade  and  brought 
them  in  to  ask  the  colonials  if  jade  had  been  found  at 
the  Antipodes.  At  last  he  reached  an  Austrian  who 
had,  for  some  unknown  reason,  become  a  British  sub- 
ject and  also  possessed  an  almost  uncanny  acquaint- 
ance with  the  resources  of  the  Empire.  His  German 
education  had  given  him  great  respect  for  his  own 
opinion,  which  he  was  accustomed  to  announce  with 
an  air  of  finality  which  amused  the  Americans,  but  oc- 
casionally irritated  the  genuine  Britons.  He  said,  in 
his  usual  manner:  "I  do  not  know  if  this  is  jade,  but 
I  do  know  that  it  is  a  silicate."  Like  the  Irishman's 
excuse  for  hitting  his  father,  "he  stood  so  fair  I 
couldn't  help  it,"  and  I  solemnly  said:  ''That  settles 
it.  Everybody  knows  that  the  Silly  Kate  was  always  a 
jade";  a  statement  which  seemed  pecuHarly  comfort- 
ing to  a  delightful  New  Zealander  who  was  present 
and  who  loathed  his  Austrian  fellow  subject. 

(  293  ) 


One  of  the  men  whom  everybody  hked  was  Lord 
Elibank.  He  had  been  in  the  British  navy  and  was  a 
perfect  type  of  an  old-time  seaman,  who  knew  his  duty 
and  did  it  thoroughly.  We  were  talking  of  the  charm 
of  the  German  Christmas,  preparation  for  which  had 
greatly  interested  the  men  who  were  new  to  Germany, 
and  it  led  him  to  tell  us  how  he  had  spent  a  Christmas 
day  in  China.  His  ship  had  been  sent  out  to  catch 
some  troublesome  Chinese  pirates  and,  in  the  course 
of  the  day,  they  sighted  a  notorious  pirate  junk  and 
gave  chase.  The  junk  made  for  shallow  water,  where 
the  ship  of  war  could  not  follow,  and  so  the  boats  were 
ordered  out,  as  the  pirates  were  just  beyond  the  short 
range  of  the  guns  of  that  day.  Elibank  was  then  a 
young  midshipman  and  was  put  in  command  of  a 
boat.  The  pirates  fired  an  ineffectual  volley  as  the 
boats  approached  and  then  plunged  overboard  and 
swam  ashore,  fleeing  in  all  directions  as  they  landed. 
Each  British  sailor  chased  and  captured  his  man  and 
Elibank  selected  for  his  quarry  a  gigantic  creature 
who,  like  his  fellows,  was  stark  naked  and  chilled  with 
the  plunge  in  the  icy  water,  but  who  ran  gamely  until 
he  appeared  blown  and  then  sat  down  suddenly  on  a 
knoll.  Elibank,  having  heard  stories  of  the  wiles  of 
pirates,  suspected  him  of  sitting  upon  one  of  the 
knives  these  gentry  prized  and  with  which  they  could 
do  expert  fighting;  so  he  stalked  his  prey,  revolver  in 

(  294  ) 


hand,  circling  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last  he  saw 
that  the  man  had  no  concealed  weapon  and  then  ad- 
vanced, took  him  by  his  long  queue,  put  the  revolver 
to  his  head  and  marched  him  to  the  boat,  a  tranquil 
prisoner.  He  concluded  his  tale  with  saying:  "I  assure 
you,  gentlemen,  that  is  the  best  way  to  catch  a  pi- 
rate." With  one  accord,  all  the  Americans  solemnly 
responded  that,  when  they  went  hunting  pirates,  they 
would  certainly  follow  his  advice,  at  which  he  and  the 
other  Englishmen  seemed  much  gratified. 


1890     Chapter  Fourteen     1893 

WHEN  we  returned  to  New  York  from  our  west- 
ern journey,  Leonard,  who  had  given  up  all 
thought  of  farming,  entered  the  office  of  a  Mr.  Arm- 
stead,  who  was  exploiting  a  gold  mine  proposition,  to 
learn  something  about  business,  and  I  returned  to 
Europe  in  time  to  attend  the  International  Medical 
Congress  at  Berlin,  where  I  heard  the  immortal  Lister 
deliver  the  opening  address. 

At  this  Congress  Younger  gave  his  first  clinic  in 
Europe  and  demonstrated  that  a  tooth  which  had 
been  out  of  the  mouth  can  be  implanted  in  an  artificial 
socket,  under  certain  conditions,  and  obtain  a  degree 
of  ankylosis  which  makes  it  useful  for  many  years.  It 
was  fortunate  that  I  had  seen  a  number  of  his  cases  in 
California,  for  Miller,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  sec- 
tion of  stomatology,  regarded  it  as  impossible  and  was 
unwilling  at  first  that  Younger  should  obtain  a  hear- 
ing, but  finally  yielded  to  my  representations.  Young- 
er insisted  that  this  operation  was  possible  with  any 
tooth  where  the  pericementum  remained  intact,  and 
offered,  at  my  suggestion,  to  implant  the  tooth  of  a 
mummy,  if  it  could  be  obtained.  Miller  got  such  a 
tooth  from  the  museum  and  Younger  duly  implanted 
it  in  the  upper  jaw  of  a  medical  student  and  for  a  time 

(296) 


it  promised  well,  until  an  accident  dislodged  it  and 
the  subject  refused  to  be  further  experimented  upon. 
Another  dentist  helped  me  to  prepare  the  tooth  for 
Younger 's  purpose.  Our  time  was  short,  but  we  did 
the  best  possible.  The  tooth  was,  of  course,  very  dry. 
We  soaked  it  for  a  long  time  in  distilled  water  and 
then  drilled  into  the  pulp  cavity  to  make  therein  an 
impervious  filling.  To  our  amazement,  we  found  in  the 
root  a  transparent  tissue  of  the  size  and  shape  of  the 
sheath  of  the  dental  pulp,  which,  however,  after  a 
careful  examination,  we  lost.  In  speaking  of  this  to  a 
learned  Austrian  professor,  he  assured  us  that  we  were 
either  mistaken,  or  else  were  endeavouring  to  deceive 
him,  for,  of  course,  it  was  impossible  that  this  could 
have  been  in  the  case  of  a  gentleman  deceased  since 
two  thousand  years.  He  reminded  us  of  an  eminent 
German  professor,  who  wrote  in  the  German  press, 
long  after  the  telephone  had  been  working  successfully 
in  America  and  some  advanced  Germans  were  asking 
why  it  couldn't  be  introduced  into  the  Fatherland, 
that  it  was  only  another  American  humbug,  that  he 
didn't  believe  in  it, as  he  had  tried  it  in  his  own  labor- 
atory where  it  didn't  work. 

In  1892  your  mother,  Nora  and  Grace  were  with  me 
upon  my  annual  visit  to  Vienna.  From  there  we  went 
to  Warsaw,  Moscow  and  St.  Petersburg.  It  was  a 
memorable  journey,  for  a  large  part  of  Russia  had 

(  297  ) 


been  suffering  from  famine  and  the  poor  people  every- 
where were  still  upon  short  rations.  Some  months  be- 
fore, ships  laden  with  food  had  been  sent  from  America 
as  a  gift  to  the  people.  During  our  visit  there  was  diffi- 
culty in  gaining  access  to  some  museums  and  palaces, 
but  when  it  was  made  known  to  any  official  that  an 
American  wanted  to  see  any  collection,  the  answer  in- 
variably was,  if  an  American  wants  anything  in  Rus- 
sia, it  is  at  his  disposal.  Thus  we  were  able  to  see  the 
Kjremlin  at  Moscow,  an  unforgettable  event,  in  a  man- 
ner which  in  normal  times,  when  there  are  many  visi- 
tors, would  have  been  less  enjoyable. 

We  became  acquainted  with  the  superb  ritual  of  the 
Russian  church  for  the  first  time  in  Moscow,  in  the 
magnificent  new  cathedral.  We  revelled  in  it.  Lord 
Redesdale  writes  on  page  277  of  his  * 'Memories," 
published  in  1917: 

With  us  ritual  is  a  question  of  the  individual;  to  one  man  a 
stimulus,  to  his  neighbour  a  horror.  In  Russia,  on  the  contrary, 
it  seems  to  be  a  national  necessity,  satisfying  an  endemic  crav- 
ing. For  the  Slav,  the  call  to  the  soul  must  be  through  the 
imagination  and  that  is  where  the  imagery  of  the  Greek  church 
triumphs.  The  music  breathes  tragedy;  the  swelling  voices  of 
the  choristers  rise  from  the  lowest  depths  of  sorrow  to  the  sub- 
limest  heights  of  ecstatic  adoration;  the  canticles  and  anti- 
phones  are  so  entirely  one  with  the  rites  of  the  Passion  that 
I  imagined  that  the  heaven-born  music  must  be  as  old  as  the 
liturgies  themselves,  foreshadowing  Wagner's  theory  of  the  twin- 

(  298  ) 


birth  of  music  and  poetry.  But  this  is  not  so.  I  was  informed 
that  it  was  no  older  than  the  eighteenth  century.  Could  it,  I 
wonder,  have  been  based  upon  some  much  more  ancient  model  ? 

These  words  convey  far  more  completely  than  any 
of  my  own  could  do  the  impression  which  the  wonder- 
ful ritual  made  upon  us  all. 

Nora  and  Grace  will  remember  the  Easter  day  at 
Warsaw.  It  was  a  rare  occasion,  since  the  Roman 
Catholic  and  the  Russian  Greek  Easter  chanced  to  co- 
incide and  the  Jewish  Passover  also  occurred  at  the 
same  time.  We  saw,  early  in  Holy  Week,  fantastic 
domes  of  what  seemed  to  be  light  cake  exposed  for 
sale  in  the  shops  of  bakers  and  confectioners,  and 
Nora  went  about  saying  gently  but  persistently:  "I 
want  a  big  cake."  So  at  last  her  mother  bought  her 
one  and  ordered  it  sent  to  the  hotel,  where  it  remained 
a  conspicuous  ornament  on  a  table  in  our  salon.  On 
Easter  morning,  to  our  dismay,  the  hotel  restaurant 
was  closed.  We  found  that  for  three  days  to  come  no 
one  expected  to  work  and  that  the  great  quantities  of 
food  which  the  people  had  been  buying  for  several 
days  had  been  prepared  for  this  exigency.  Your 
mother  rushed  to  a  shop  but  found  there  only  a  poor 
woman,  who  kissed  her  and  said:  ^^ Chris tos  Voskres" 
("Christ  has  arisen").  Certainly  in  heart  if  not  in 
words  she  answered  :"Z)/m/y^z«o  on  VoskreSy'  ("Of  a 
truth  he  has  arisen"),  a  salutation  which  is  exchanged 

(  299  ) 


at  Easter  throughout  Russia  by  all  people  of  the  Greek 
faith,  without  distinction  of  rank.  It  is  related  of 
Nicholas  I,  the  stern  Czar  who  died  of  a  broken  heart 
when  he  found  that  the  Crimean  War  was  lost,  that 
coming  out  of  his  cabinet,  where  he  had  been  working 
late,  and  startled  by  the  bells  announcing  Easter 
morning,  he  kissed  the  sentry  on  guard  outside  the 
door,  saying:  ^^Christos  Voskres^  "Not  at  all,  your 
Majesty,"  replied  the  soldier,  who  proved  to  be  a  Jew. 

Handsome  Mrs.  Bennet  had  been  my  patient  and 
friend  ever  since  she  was  Princess  Abernelek  and  a 
schoolgirl  in  Dresden.  Her  aunt  was  the  last  Queen  of 
Georgia  and  she  herself  was  a  high  type  of  Circassian 
beauty.  She  never  married  again  after  the  early  death 
of  her  English  husband,  but  always  remained  a  striking 
personality,  displaying  great  executive  talent  in  man- 
aging her  own  estate  and  in  organizing  works  of  benev- 
olence in  times  of  war  or  pestilence.  Once  speaking  to 
me  of  the  Easter  celebrations  in  Russia,  she  said  in  her 
delightful  English:  "Our  Emperor  always  has  to  kiss 
himself  six  hundred  times  on  Easter  morning." 

For  myself,  I  soon  discovered  that  it  was  still  pos- 
sible, in  a  somewhat  surreptitious  way,  to  find  means 
of  being  fed  in  the  hotel,  and  so  we  did  not  follow  the 
popular  example  of  going  into  private  houses  and  par- 
taking of  the  food  freely  proffered  to  all  visitors,  al- 
though afterwards  some  of  our  friends  reproached  us 

(  300  ) 


for  not  complying  with  the  general  custom.  But  Nora's 
"big  cake"  was  very  sustaining. 

We  went  one  afternoon  by  appointment  to  call  upon 
my  old  friend,  Baron  Levin,  an  able  Jewish  banker 
and  man  of  affairs.  He  was,  I  fancy,  like  Disraeli,  de- 
scended from  an  old,  aristocratic  Jewish  family,  for  I 
observed,  during  the  many  years  I  knew  him,  that  his 
fellow  believers  treated  him  with  a  certain  veneration 
beyond  that  due  to  his  unquestionable  abilities,  and 
he  had  also  an  aristocratic  manner  and  person.  But  his 
title  was  probably  modern,  for  he  used  it  only  in  the 
last  few  years  before  his  death.  The  poor  man  was 
nearly  blind  and  he  lived  alone,  except  for  attendants, 
on  one  floor  of  his  spacious  house.  In  doing  the  honours 
as  host  he  would  take  a  guest  about,  showing  his  pic- 
tures and  other  treasures  and  pointing  out  their  beau- 
ties, with  never  an  indication  that  he  could  scarcely 
tell  daylight  from  darkness.  Fortunately  he  had  a  gift 
for  music  and  he  would  play  for  hours  on  the  piano. 
After  we  came  to  know  each  other  well,  he  told  me 
much  of  conditions  in  Poland  and  Russia,  which  he 
always  discussed  dispassionately,  after  the  manner 
which  long  ages  of  persecution  have  made  possible  to 
his  gifted  and  much-enduring  race. 

Perhaps  Nora  will  remember  his  complimenting  her 
upon  her  French,  which  he  found  even  better  than  her 
excellent  German. 

(  301  ) 


While  we  were  in  Warsaw,  news  came  that  King 
Albert  had  bestowed  upon  me  the  title  oiHofrath.  He 
had,  some  years  before,  spontaneously  made  me  a 
Knight  of  the  Albrecht  Order,  by  giving  me  the  Saxon 
Family  decoration  of  the  first  class,  and  this  second 
evidence  of  the  royal  favour  was  as  unexpected  as  it 
was  pleasing.  It  is  a  sort  of  hall-mark  which  is  greatly 
prized  by  professional  men  in  Germany  and  very 
rarely  given  to  foreigners,  and  it  gratified  me,  particu- 
larly at  that  time,  because,  although  I  had  been  doing 
all  in  my  power  to  improve  the  condition  of  my  Ger- 
man colleagues  professionally  and  socially,  there  were 
not  a  few  who  looked  upon  my  position  with  depre- 
cating eyes.  Indeed,  that  was  not  surprising,  for  until 
well  into  the  present  century,  the  American  system  of 
educating  dentists,  especially  in  technique,  was  su- 
perior to  European  methods  and,  up  to  the  second 
decade  of  the  century,  American  dentists  in  Europe 
were  everywhere  much  in  favour. 

Upon  returning  to  Dresden,  I  asked  for  an  audience 
with  both  the  King  and  the  Queen,  to  return  thanks 
for  the  new  distinction.  Each  received  me  separately 
and  they  were  both  curious  to  hear  about  my  Russian 
journey. 

The  King  was  much  interested  in  what  I  had  ob- 
served of  the  drilling  of  Russian  soldiers.  Owing  to  the 
favour  with  which  Americans  were  then  regarded  in 

(  302  ) 


Russia,  and  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  I  had 
various  opportunities  in  Moscow  and  St.  Petersburg 
to  see  soldiers  being  drilled  in  the  great  riding  schools, 
for,  in  the  North,  the  weather  was  still  so  severe  that 
regular  drill  in  the  open  air  was  rare.  I  had  been  greatly 
impressed  with  the  kindliness  and  spirit  of  comrade- 
ship which  seemed  to  prevail  between  the  officers  and 
soldiers,  in  such  contrast  to  that  customary  in  Ger- 
many. Often  the  officers  would  be  seen  smilingly  and 
with  gentle  speech  correcting  the  awkwardness  of  the 
soldiers  who  seemed  to  respond  with  goodwill  and 
cheerfulness. 

I  remember  an  illustration  of  this  good  fellowship 
once  when  your  mother  and  I  were  dining  in  Warsaw 
at  the  palace  of  the  Governor-General,  Count  Schuva- 
loff.  He  had  been  my  patient  and  was  desirous  that  I 
should  induce  some  American  colleague  to  settle  in 
Warsaw.  We  told  him  how  much  we  had  been  inter- 
ested in  the  Cossack  drill,  which  we  had  been  watch- 
ing in  the  early  morning.  The  whole  regiment  partici- 
pated in  what  seemed  to  be  exalted  circus  tricks  in 
perfect  unison.  While  riding  at  full  speed,  every  man 
would  suddenly  reverse  his  position,  heels  in  the  air 
and  head  lowered  to  below  the  stirrup.  At  another 
moment,  some  men  far  in  front  would  fall  flat  on  the 
ground  and  let  their  steeds  go  free.  The  men  behind 
came  galloping  in  couples  and  between  them  they 

(  303  ) 


would  pick  up  one  man  after  another,  as  if  they  were 
wounded  or  dead,  and  place  them  on  the  crupper,  or 
carry  them  swinging  between  the  riders,  all  three  be- 
ing then  concealed  behind  their  horses  in  protection 
against  imaginary  shooting.  They  picked  up  handker- 
chiefs from  the  ground  or  hid  behind  their  clever  litde 
horses  while  they  were  madly  racing  with  each  other, 
and  shot  over  or  under  the  backs  and  necks  of  their 
horses  in  a  manner  to  make  an  American  Indian  turn 
pale  with  envy. 

The  Count  told  us  much  about  these  crack  troops, 
of  which  his  bodyguard  was  composed,  saying  that 
every  man  was  "born  on  horseback";  and  after  dinner 
he  ordered  in  a  sentry  and  put  him  through  a  portion 
of  his  drill.  He  spoke  to  him  in  affectionate  tones,  as 
to  a  child,  and  the  response  seemed  to  be  as  confiding 
as  of  a  child  to  his  father,  especially  when  he  asked 
him  questions  about  his  duties.  As  the  man  was  about 
to  be  dismissed,  I  asked  His  Excellency  to  tell  him 
that  I  had  seen  cavalry  in  many  countries,  but  never 
such  accomplished  riders  as  the  Cossacks.  He  made  a 
quick  reply,  at  which  the  Count  laughed,  and  the  man 
saluted  and  marched  away.  Then  the  Count  told  me 
he  had  answered:  ''Because  we  are  the  best." 

It  was  with  considerable  enjoyment  that  I  told  the 
King,  who  was  a  field  marshal  in  the  Russian  army, 
what  impression  the  troops  had  made  upon  me,  and  I 

(  304  ) 


believe  he  may  have  felt  that,  but  for  the  Prussian 
system,  which  he  was  obliged  to  accept,  he  would  be 
glad  enough  to  have  his  Saxon  troops  treated  with 
such  consideration. 

The  gentle  Queen,  however,  was  more  interested  in 
hearing  how  the  suffering  from  famine  was  at  last  al- 
leviated. 

After  returning  home,  I  found  my  work  fatiguing. 
As  the  autumn  came  on,  my  cough  became  most  dis- 
tressing and  I  feared  to  encounter  the  winter.  Leonard 
had  come  over  for  a  visit  and  I  was  distracted  between 
a  desire  to  go  with  him  to  America  as  he  urged  and  a 
wish  to  pass  the  winter  in  Morocco,  a  country  which 
had  for  me  a  romantic  attraction,  both  on  account  of 
its  history  and  climate  and  because  I  believed  it  was 
destined  to  exercise  an  influence  upon  the  course  of 
modern  history. 

I  had  known  something  of  the  early  German  in- 
trigues in  Morocco  and  felt  convinced  that  it  should, 
in  the  interests  of  European  peace,  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  British  or  the  French,  preferably  the  latter. 
Although  I  then  wished  well  to  the  German  Empire,  I 
had  little  sympathy  with  the  propaganda  for  German 
colonial  expansion,  for  it  seemed  to  me  the  German 
people,  as  has  since  been  tragically  shown  to  be  the 
case,  were  of  all  Europeans  the  least  fit  to  rule  over 
subject  peoples.  I  had  known  the  early  beginnings  of 

(  305  ) 


this  propaganda.  I  was  invited  to  the  first  pubHc  meet- 
ing in  Dresden  at  which  colonial  expansion  was  advo- 
cated. The  speakers  urged  the  importance  of  having 
colonies  in  which  Germans  could  settle,  as  the  English 
had  done,  in  parts  of  the  earth  where  the  surplus  Ger- 
man population  could  make  homes  for  themselves  and 
finally  become  tributary  to  the  greatness  of  the  Fa- 
therland. After  the  meeting  was  over,  I  met  a  group 
of  the  men  who  were  interested  in  the  subject  and  they 
begged  me  to  give  them  my  opinion.  I  asked  them  if 
they  wished  me  to  be  perfectly  frank  and  they  said: 
"Of  course."  Then  I  told  them  that  there  was  but  one 
country  at  that  time  which  could  be  acquired,  except 
by  force  of  arms,  in  which  Germans  could  live  and 
work.  That  land  was  Patagonia.  I  reminded  them  that 
nowhere  in  the  world  were  Germans  to  be  found  ac- 
tually working  on  the  land  within  the  tropics,  except 
sporadically.  Many  generations  of  life  in  temperate 
regions  had  made  them  unfit  for  such  a  place  in  the 
sun  and  they  had  not  shown  any  capacity  for  ruling 
over  subject  peoples.  They  were  the  latest  born  of 
great  nations  and  must  be  content  to  play  another  role 
than  their  English  cousins,  who  had  behind  them  a 
thousand  years  of  experience  in  striving  for  self-govern- 
ment, which  had  fitted  them  to  rule  jusdy  over  others. 
Patagonia  had  at  that  time  not  been  taken  over  by 
Argentina  and  Chile,  and  the  northern  part,  although 

(306  ) 


destitute  of  good  harbours,  was  good,  fruitful,  and  with 
a  climate  in  which  Germans  could  hve  and  work.  But 
I  soon  found  that  they  were  thinking  of  acquiring  land 
not  for  the  purpose  of  settlement,  but  to  make  a  great 
colonial  empire,  in  which  they  could  subdue  helpless 
people  to  their  will.  They  were  dreaming  of  Africa  and 
I  now  doubt  not  that  they  were,  unconsciously  to 
themselves  perhaps,  already  planning  to  get  footholds 
where  they  could  by  force  extend  their  power  all  over 
that  great  continent. 

Having  this  dilettante  interest  in  such  questions,  I 
had  long  wished  to  go  to  Morocco,  but  Leonard  was 
certain  that  I  ought  to  go  to  America  with  him.  Arm- 
stead,  in  whose  office  Leonard  was,  and  my  friend.  Dr. 
Norman  Kingsley,  had  control  of  a  placer  mining 
property  in  New  Mexico  and  I  thought  it  possible 
that  I  might  want  to  take  an  interest  in  it.  So  finally 
Morocco  was  given  up  and  your  mother,  Nora  and  I 
departed  with  Leonard  for  America. 

We  arrived  in  season  to  see  the  conclusion  of  the 
presidential  campaign  which  resulted  in  the  election 
of  Cleveland  for  a  second  term,  the  administration  of 
Harrison  having  intervened  between  the  first  and 
second  election  of  Cleveland.  I  had  by  inheritance  a 
strong  preference  for  the  Republican  party.  My  father 
was  one  of  the  original  Republicans  and  the  men  I 
knew  and  honoured  most  were  its  ardent  supporters.  I 

(  307  ) 


had  cast  my  first  vote  for  Lincoln  in  1 864,  but  my  long 
residence  abroad  had  given  me  a  different  viewpoint 
from  that  which  was  common  to  my  friends  at  home, 
my  judgement  being  unaffected  by  the  passions  of  par- 
tisan warfare.  The  origin  and  purpose  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  Republican  party  were  beyond  all  praise, 
until  long  continuation  in  unrestricted  power  had  ren- 
dered it  arrogant  and  corrupt.  To  retain  power  it  be- 
came the  advocate  of  extreme  protection,  a  policy 
which  appeared  to  me  unjust,  dangerous  and  undemo- 
cratic. This  policy  also  gave  rise  to  scandals  which 
caused  delight  to  the  enemies  of  the  Western  Republic 
and  aided  them  in  carrying  out  their  own  plans, 
among  which  discrediting  of  America  played  an  im- 
portant role.  I  had  therefore  become  convinced  that  a 
change  of  administration  was  desirable  and  was  much 
interested  in  seeing  the  close  of  the  presidential  elec- 
tion of  1892. 

I  had  long  been  a  member  of  the  Reform  Club  and 
enjoyed  the  society  I  found  there  on  my  occasional 
visits  to  America.  One  evening  Carl  Schurz  made  his 
only  speech  during  the  campaign.  It  was  at  Cooper 
Union  and  I  had  a  ticket  for  the  platform,  therefore 
I  went  early,  so  as  to  be  able  to  see  as  well  as  hear  the 
speakers  and  observe  the  audience.  The  moment  the 
doors  were  opened  an  immense  crowd  poured  in.  It 
was  almost  entirely  a  German  audience,  the  first  of 

(  308  ) 


that  character  I  had  seen  in  America.  There  were 
many  women  present  and  the  appearance  of  the  as- 
sembly was  most  respectable.  I  had  heard  speeches 
from  renowned  Germans  before,  but  in  Germany.  I 
once  heard  Moltke  speak  in  the  Reichstag.  The  ques- 
tion in  debate  had  a  bearing  upon  the  army  and,  just 
as  one  speaker  was  concluding,  the  famous  general 
made  a  sign  to  the  presiding  officer,  who  rose  and  an- 
nounced: ''AbgeordneterGraf  MoltkeV  Instantly  every 
movement  in  the  crowded  house  ceased.  The  very 
pages  stopped  as  if  frozen  in  their  tracks,  holding  the 
messages  they  were  about  to  dehver  motionless  in 
their  hands. 

Moltke  rose  instantly,  stood  at  attention,  looked 
the  president  directly  in  the  eyes  and  spoke  a  few 
short,  clear  sentences  as  if  cut  with  a  sabre,  and,  with 
the  last  word,  suddenly  resumed  his  seat,  with  the 
abrupt  action  of  an  automaton.  The  house  broke  into 
what  seemed  to  be  unanimous  but  deeply  respectful 
applause. 

Upon  another  occasion,  when  I  heard  Bismarck 
speak  in  the  Reichstag,  there  was  a  different  atmos- 
phere. He  was  controversial  and,  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously, but  certainly  to  all  appearance,  contemptu- 
ous of  his  audience.  It  was  a  question  of  passing  a  gov- 
ernmental measure,  but  one  of  such  fleeting  interest 
that  I  have  now  forgotten  its  purpose,  only  it  was  then 

(  309  ) 


regarded  as  so  important  that  the  House  was  packed 
and  I  gained  admission  only  through  Count  Hohen- 
thal,  the  Saxon  member  of  the  Bundesrat.  Bismarck 
was  an  impressive  figure  at  all  times  but  on  this  occa- 
sion he  was  more  conspicuous  than  usual,  as  the  other 
members  of  the  Government  who  sat  with  him 
chanced  to  be  of  only  medium  height.  When  he  rose 
to  speak,  there  was  profound  silence  but  one  could 
feel  that  there  was  an  undercurrent  of  dissatisfaction, 
which,  however,  could  embarrass  Bismarck  least  of  all 
men.  He  commenced  in  a  businesslike,  matter-of-fact 
way,  which  at  last  became  almost  dramatic  as  he 
warmed  to  his  subject  and  reflected  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  adherents,  which  they  evinced  by  frequent  ap- 
plause. But  there  was  never  a  moment  in  which  he 
had  not  complete  control  of  himself.  This  was  strik- 
ingly evident  when,  occasionally  in  the  midst  of  a  sen- 
tence, he  would  pause,  his  tall  form  swaying  rhythmi- 
cally to  and  fro  while  he  seemed  to  be  seeking  for  the 
exact  word  to  express  his  meaning;  at  last  he  would 
explode  with  the  word,  the  most  appropriate  to  his 
purpose  in  the  whole  range  of  the  rich  German  vocab- 
ulary. Upon  each  such  occasion,  his  audience  had  a 
momentary  thrill  of  anxiety  lest  he  should  miss  fire, 
but  he  always  hit  the  mark  so  directly  and  with  such 
perfect  mental  equipoise  as  to  excite  the  admiration 
even  of  his  most  bitter  enemies. 

(  310  ) 


Cleveland  preceded  Schurz  with  a  speech  which 
showed  from  the  first  sentence  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand a  German  audience.  This  was  not  surprising, 
for  the  German-Americans  have  never  shown  much 
interest  in  or  capacity  for  national  poHtics  up  to  the 
time  of  the  present  war,  in  which  the  less  said  of  their 
activities  the  better.  But  at  this  time  it  was  known 
that  the  German  vote  was  independent  and  sympa- 
thetic to  reform,  and  Cleveland  only  treated  them  as 
children  who  were  fond  of  music  and  social  enjoyment. 

But  when  Schurz  began  speaking  in  a  clear  voice, 
though  weak  from  recent  illness,  he  held  his  audience 
spellbound  from  the  first  sentence  in  direct,  crisp,  in- 
spiring German  speech,  such  as  I  had  imagined  could 
be,  but  had  never  heard  before.  The  effect  was  magical. 
He  explained  the  normal  issues  of  the  campaign,  the 
contest  being  between  the  advocates  of  a  silver  cur- 
rency and  the  supporters  of  a  gold  standard,  between 
a  selfish  taxing  of  the  whole  people  by  a  high  tariff 
from  which  the  poor  must  suffer  chiefly,  and  a  fiscal 
system  which  should  encourage  rather  than  restrict 
foreign  commerce.  He  appealed  to  them  as  men  un- 
questionably loyal  to  the  principles  of  the  Govern- 
ment and  wise  enough  to  understand  that  honesty 
was  not  only  politic,  but  also  sure  to  be  triumphant. 
Take  it  all  together,  this  speech  was  a  masterpiece  and 
taught  me  what  the  German  language  and  character 

(3"  ) 


might  be  when  emancipated  from  pedantry  and  arbi- 
trary government. 

The  night  of  the  election  was  the  most  exciting  I 
had  ever  known.  Leonard  and  beloved  Noble  Hogg- 
son  dined  with  me  at  the  Lotos  Club  and  afterwards 
we  went  about  to  the  political  clubs  and  public  places 
and  saw  the  people  as  the  returns  came  in,  rolling  up 
an  immense  majority  for  Cleveland.  Hoggson  was  Re- 
publican in  his  sentiments  and  when  the  result  be- 
came certain,  **the  subsequent  proceedings  interested 
him  no  more,"  and  off  he  went  to  bed.  But  Leonard 
and  I  made  a  night  of  it  and,  indeed,  I  thrilled  with 
excitement  and  rejoicing,  for  it  was  a  rare  experience 
for  me  to  go  through  such  a  campaign,  so  that  I  only 
quieted  down  when,  the  next  afternoon,  your  dear 
mother  came  back  from  a  visit  to  Maine  and  played 
her  part  as  "Her  Majesty's  Opposition"  so  well,  that 
I  began  to  pace  the  solid  earth  again  and  not  walk 
with  my  forehead  to  the  stars. 

But  before  midnight  I  cabled  the  result  to  my  friend, 
Baron  Holstein,  at  the  Foreign  Office  in  Berlin.  I  had 
ventured  to  predict  to  him  Cleveland's  triumph,  and 
mine  was  the  first  news  he  received.  It  was  very  im- 
portant for  Germany  to  know  the  American  decision, 
for  there  was  a  considerable  party  in  the  Government 
who  were  not  quite  converted  to  a  gold  standard  and 
it  was  a  question,  if  the  gold  standard  for  Germany 

(  312  ) 


should  be  definitely  established,  what  should  be  done 
with  the  excess  of  silver  in  the  Imperial  treasury  and 
where  it  could  be  disposed  of  to  the  best  advantage 
if  sold. 

The  question  of  the  tariff  was  also  to  me  important, 
for  in  those  days  I  hoped  that  commercial  and  all 
other  relations  between  America  and  Germany  might 
become  more  intimate.  I  longed  for  moral  alliance  be- 
tween America,  Great  Britain  and  Germany  and,  in 
the  earlier  years  of  the  reign  of  William  II,  it  seemed 
to  me  not  impossible  that  it  could  be  brought  about. 
How  little  I  then  realized,  that  the  spirit  of  imperial- 
ism is  the  same  in  all  ages  and  must  always  strive  for 
its  own  aggrandizement,  in  violation  of  all  laws  human 
and  divine  which  may  chance  to  stand  in  its  ruthless 
way. 

When  the  election  was  over,  I  began  to  feel  the  chill 
of  American  autumn.  I  found  that  I  could  not  rest  in 
the  exciting  atmosphere  of  the  North  and  we  finally 
concluded  to  go  to  Mexico  for  the  winter,  leaving 
Nora  with  some  friends.  The  mining  proposition  in 
which  my  friend.  Dr.  Norman  Kingsley,  was  inter- 
ested, seemed  so  promising  that  I  concluded  to  go  and 
inspect  the  property.  So  your  mother,  Leonard,  Arm- 
stead  and  I  journeyed  together  to  Albuquerque  by 
rail  and  from  there  by  a  most  awfully  decrepit  wagon 
to  Golden,  as  the  village  near  the  mine  was  called.  On 

(  313  ) 


that  elevated  plain  the  November  sun  was  shining 
brilliantly  but  a  high  wind  was  blowing,  the  chill  ef- 
fects of  which  we  scarcely  realized.  Amid  magnificent 
scenery  we  drove  on  for  hours  over  a  fearful  trail, 
which  it  was  mockery  to  call  a  road,  until  we  reached 
a  forlorn  shanty  which  passed  for  a  hotel.  Your  poor 
mother,  whose  high  spirit  had  kept  her  up  until  the 
frail  body  could  bear  no  more,  sank  into  a  heap  on  the 
floor  and  we  had  an  anxious  hour  until  she  could  be 
put  to  bed.  She  had  a  high  fever,  but  with  a  hot  pack 
and  a  night's  sleep  she  was  without  fever  the  next 
morning,  but  weak  and  most  willing  to  keep  quiet. 
The  wind  whistled  through  the  wretched  wooden 
building  and  the  soiled,  tattered  paper  fluttered  on 
the  walls,  but  during  the  three  days  of  our  stay  she  did 
not  leave  the  house. 

Then  your  mother  and  I  went  to  Las  Vegas,  a 
heaven  upon  earth  as  it  seemed  to  us,  with  its  excel- 
lent hotel,  delicious  temperature  and  air  and  its  cura- 
tive baths.  We  stayed  for  three  weeks  nursing  our- 
selves until  we  should  be  fit  for  travel  again,  and  I  had 
time  to  think  over  the  business  upon  which  we  had 
come. 

It  was  easily  demonstrated  that  this  property  at 
Golden  contained  at  least  two  hundred  million  dollars 
worth  of  gold,  which  could  be  easily  obtained  by 
washing,  if  we  could  only  secure  water,  or  failing  that, 

(314) 


some  other  method  might  eventually  be  devised. 
There  was  also  a  large  deposit  of  good  coal  on  the 
place.  After  a  rain,  the  Mexican  women  and  children 
would  go  about  the  place  picking  up  the  coarser  gold 
particles,  which  would  then  be  found  upon  the  surface. 
It  was  an  ancient  custom  for  the  natives  to  load  mules 
with  barrels  of  the  auriferous  earth  and  drive  them  to 
the  distant  Rio  Grande  and  wash  out  the  gold  there, 
and  then  fill  the  casks  with  water  to  wash  out  more 
upon  their  return;  and  this  labour  was  profitable. 

Golden  lies  on  a  vast,  high,  diversified  basin,  sur- 
rounded by  mountains.  It  seemed  probable  that  arte- 
sian wells  would  supply  sufficient  water  to  work  the 
earth  profitably.  I  finally  decided  to  invest  five  thou- 
sand dollars  in  the  stock  of  the  company,  upon  the 
condition  that  such  a  well  should  be  sunk  and  that 
Leonard  should  be  made  the  local  manager.  The  con- 
ditions were  accepted  and  Leonard  took  over  the  man- 
agement with  characteristic  energy  and  efficiency. 
When  assured  by  trained  engineers  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  transport  a  great  boiler  from  Albu- 
querque to  Golden  without  first  building  a  road,  he 
requisitioned  all  the  oxen  in  the  neighbourhood  and 
brought  it  safely  over  the  long,  rough  trail  without  a 
hitch.  The  crew  engaged  to  drill  the  well,  he  kept 
cheerfully  at  their  work  night  and  day,  sleeping  him- 
self on  the  derrick  or  mounting  guard  there  all  night 

(315) 


long  in  time  of  any  emergency,  for  he  learned  to  do 
each  man's  work  and  could  turn  his  hand  to  anything. 
I  remember  how  he  took  the  news,  when  after  he  had 
come  to  Germany  to  consult  with  me  regarding  future 
operations,  we  heard  that  some  ass,  one  of  the  di- 
rectors, I  believe,  clad  in  a  little  brief  authority,  had 
ordered  the  casing  of  the  well,  made  at  such  sacrifice 
of  time  and  money,  pulled  out,  "to  see  if  the  flow 
could  n't  be  increased."  This  act  of  folly,  which  ended 
our  active  interest  in  the  undertaking,  Leonard  took 
as  being  "all  in  the  day's  work,"  but  I  knew  it  was  a 
bitter  disappointment  to  him  and  that  he  could  not 
realize,  as  I  did,  that  these  experiences  were  teaching 
him  lessons  every  young  man  needs  to  learn  and  which 
were  fitting  him  for  some  greater  opportunity  in  the 
future,  where  a  knowledge  of  men  with  their  virtues 
and  follies  would  be  indispensable  to  him. 

New  Mexico  was  a  wild  country  in  those  days,  the 
inhabitants  "not  being  there  for  their  health."  Arm- 
stead  was  once  surveying  a  distant  part  of  the  prop- 
erty, when,  at  nightfall,  a  man  whom  he  recognized  as 
a  notorious  outlaw  limped  into  his  camp  and  asked  for 
food  and  a  night's  lodging.  Armstead  knew  the  man's 
history  and  that  his  wild  life  had  been  forced  upon 
him  through  some  outrage  which  made  homicide  jus- 
tifiable according  to  the  code  of  honour  recognized  in 
that  country,  and  so  not  only  supplied  his  immediate 

(316) 


needs,  but  the  next  morning  gave  him  some  money, 
together  with  good  advice  and  lent  him  a  horse  to 
help  him  on  his  way.  Many  months  afterwards.  Arm- 
stead  rode  early  one  morning  to  Santa  Fe  on  business, 
intending  to  return  by  daylight,  but  could  not  finish 
in  time  so  was  obliged  to  be  on  the  road  after  night- 
fall. This  somewhat  troubled  him,  since  he  had  his 
saddlebags  full  of  money  for  paying  off  his  men  at  the 
end  of  the  month  and  he  knew  his  drawing  of  the 
money  and  his  unexpected  detention  might  easily 
have  become  known. 

In  a  narrow  pass  he  found  himself  ambushed  and 
voices  all  about  him  ordered  him  to  throw  up  his 
hands.  So  he  obeyed,  but  at  the  same  time  called  out, 
"Are  you  perhaps  Captain  G.'s  men?"  Instantly  a 
voice  he  recognized  rang  out  through  the  darkness, 
"That's  my  friend,  Mr.  Armstead.  Let  no  man  lay  a 
hand  on  him  at  peril  of  his  Hfe!"  and  presently  the 
captain  reached  his  side,  placed  his  hand  on  Arm- 
stead's  horse  and  led  him  safely  through  the  pass,  to 
where,  by  the  bright  starlight,  the  way  was  perfectly 
plain.  Then  he  bade  him  farewell  with  the  assurance 
that  if  Armstead  was  ever  held  up  again,  he  had  only 
to  say  that  he  was  the  captain's  friend  and  he  would 
have  safe  conduct  everywhere  or  the  captain  would 
know  the  reason  why. 

At  one  time,  when  the  fortunes  of  the  mining  com- 

(  317  ) 


pany  were  at  low  ebb,  Armstead  found  it  necessary  to 
discharge  his  nephew,  a  young  engineer,  who  had  been 
in  the  country  long  enough  to  feel  its  charm;  for  it  has, 
aside  from  its  riches  and  its  spectacular  scenery  and  its 
wonderfully  clear  atmosphere,  a  romantic  Indian  and 
Spanish  history.  The  young  man  was  much  averse  tore- 
turning  home  and  determined,  as  he  had  a  little  money, 
to  prospect  for  himself  since  there  was  no  prospect  of 
getting  another  job  in  the  prevailing  "hard  times." 

He  began  by  prospecting  for  gold,  working  up  the 
bed  of  an  almost  dry  mountain  torrent.  He  soon  no- 
ticed flakes  of  turquoise,  chiefly  on  one  bank  of  the 
ancient  watercourse.  At  last  he  came  to  a  place  where 
the  turquoise  abruptly  stopped  and  he  concluded  that 
it  must  have  been  washed  down  from  a  mountain 
slope,  where  he  also  found  traces  of  this  stone.  He  de- 
termined to  sink  a  shaft  on  this  slope  and  decided  to 
begin  at  a  spot  where  a  large  pinon  tree  was  growing. 
These  beautiful  pines  ornament  many  an  otherwise 
barren  mountain  in  the  southwestern  American  coun- 
try and  they  usually  grow  singly  where  there  is  a  deep 
pocket  of  earth  which  can  hold  the  moisture  necessary 
for  their  nourishment. 

Young  Armstead  had  a  few  natives  in  his  employ 
but  they  could  do  only  manual  labour,  so  he  had  to 
oversee  every  step,  from  cutting  down  the  tree  to  get- 
ting out  the  roots  and  removing  the  earth,  the  depth 

(318  ) 


of  which  excited  his  astonishment.  At  last  one  day  he 
struck — masonry!  He  had  come  upon  the  entrance  to 
an  ancient  turquoise  mine.  He  found  slabs  of  turquoise 
which  the  Indians  had  left  there  when  the  mine  was 
hastily  closed,  doubtless  through  fear  of  the  maraud- 
ing Spaniards,  three  centuries  before.  The  mine  had 
not  only  been  filled  up,  but  the  pinon  tree  must  have 
been  planted  there  to  make  the  spot  less  liable  to  dis- 
covery, for  the  natives  had  learned  that  the  followers 
of  Cortez  were  seeking  for  gold  and  precious  stones  and 
did  not  abide  long  in  a  country  not  rich  in  minerals. 

There  are  many  traditions  of  mines  thus  concealed 
throughout  that  country  and  the  secret  was  kept  even 
when  the  poor  natives  were  tortured  and  slain  by  their 
relentless  invaders,  until  there  was  none  left  to  trans- 
mit the  knowledge  of  the  location  to  other  generations. 

Young  Armstead  located  his  claim  all  right  and  I 
believe  his  mine  is  still  the  largest  source  of  supply  of 
American  turquoise. 

How  we  rejoiced  to  leave  Las  Vegas  at  last  and  to 
go  on  our  way!  Your  dear  mother  recovered  more 
slowly  than  I,  although  she  eventually  recovered  more 
completely.  To  my  dying  day  I  shall  carry,  in  some 
swollen  joints,  the  reminder  of  those  windy  days  at 
Golden.  I  shall,  however,  never  forget  a  plucky  little 
horse  who  helped  me  regain  my  strength.  After  a 
morning  of  mud  baths,  I  used  to  take  an  afternoon 

(  319  ) 


horseback  ride.  In  that  high  altitude,  a  horse  brought 
up  from  the  plains  needed  a  considerable  time  to  be- 
come acclimated,  but  this  particular  horse  had  been 
speeded  too  soon  and  was  badly  broken-winded,  as  I 
found  at  the  very  first  trial  upon  putting  him  up  a 
sharp  ascent.  I  therefore  rode  him  most  considerately, 
until  I  found  he  was  spoiling  for  a  gallop  and  then,  at 
last,  gave  him  his  head.  He  went  like  the  wind  and 
the  longer  he  had  his  way,  the  less  was  his  roaring; 
and  when  we  returned  and  the  owner  asked  me  rather 
dubiously  if  I  would  have  the  same  horse  every  day,  I 
answered,  by  all  means,  if  he  could  assure  me  that  the 
horse  could  stand  it.  He  said  yes,  and  then  we,  the 
horse  and  I,  entered  into  a  compact  that  he  should  go 
at  my  pace  half  of  the  time,  and  at  his  own  sweet  will  ' 
the  other  half.  It  was  like  riding  a  locomotive  for 
puffing  and  speed  when  the  turn  of  the  horse  came  and 
we  were  both  vastly  contented  with  each  other  and 
parted  with  mutual  regret. 

During  our  journey  to  the  border,  we  passed 
through  a  country  which  had  suff^ered  from  drought 
for  two  years.  It  had  been  a  great  cattle  country  and 
at  a  few  points  some  herds  of  lowing  cattle  and  a  num- 
ber of  real  cow-boys  were  to  be  seen,  but  for  the 
greater  part  the  way  ran  through  land  which  seemed 
utterly  desolate.  Innumerable  carcasses  of  cattle, 
dried  in  the  hot  sun,  were  to  be  seen  in  the  neighbour- 

(  320  ) 


hood  of  the  railway,  for  these  poor  creatures  when  in 
trouble  make  their  way  to  men,  even  from  a  great  dis- 
tance, instinctively  trusting  in  their  help.  But,  once  in 
Mexico,  we  were  spared  this  sad  sight,  either  because 
there  had  been  no  such  drought,  or  because  there  were 
no  herds  of  cattle;  in  any  event,  the  contrast  between 
the  two  countries  was  complete. 

One  must  not  think  of  comparing  Mexico  with  the 
United  States.  Such  comparison  is  unjust.  The  great 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  Mexico  are  of  Indian  or 
mixed  Indian  blood.  The  number  of  Mexican  citizens 
of  pure  Spanish  origin  is  small.  I  remember  that  in  my 
boyhood  it  was  reported  by  those  who,  like  Uncle 
James,  knew  Mexico  well,  that  the  Indians  of  that 
da,y  were  hopeful  of  the  time  when  the  men  of  Spanish 
blood  would  die  out  or  be  so  reduced  in  numbers 
through  the  actual  and  proportional  increase  of  In- 
dians as  no  longer  to  be  able  to  oppress  their  Indian 
fellow  citizens.  Such  a  philosophy  may  be  naturally 
attributed  to  that  long-suffering  and  patient  people. 

We  were  in  Mexico  when  Porfirio  Diaz  was  at  the 
height  of  his  power.  Every  railroad  train  carried  its 
guard  of  well-armed  soldiers,  seemingly  under  fairly 
good  discipline.  There  were  also  numerous  gendarm- 
erie, called  "rurales."  Many  of  these  men  had  been 
bandits.  When  Diaz  entered  upon  his  second  term,  in 
1884,  he  had  completed  his  arrangements  for  a  con- 

(  321  ) 


tinuance  in  office.  The  Mexican  constitution  did  not 
allow  of  the  reelection  of  a  president.  So  Diaz  had  a 
creature  of  his  own  elected  in  his  stead  when  he  had 
completed  his  first  term  in  1880;  then  during  the  next 
four  years  he  easily  arranged  to  have  a  constitutional 
amendment  passed  by  the  Mexican  Congress,  remov- 
ing all  obstacles  to  the  reelection  of  a  president.  But, 
in  resuming  power,  if,  indeed,  it  could  be  said  that  he 
was  out  of  power  during  Gonzales'  term,  he  felt  it  was 
essential  to  his  purpose  to  maintain  order  throughout 
Mexico  and  to  this  end  the  banditti  must  be  sup- 
pressed. There  was  never  a  country  so  well  adapted  as 
Mexico,  topographically  and  socially,  for  fostering 
industries  of  this  nature.  The  vastness  of  this  magnifi- 
cent domain  can  be  better  understood  by  comparison 
with  a  somewhat  equal  territory  in  Europe.  Mexico 
surpasses  in  extent  by  10,757  square  miles,  France, 
Belgium,  The  Netherlands,  Switzerland,  Germany, 
Austria-Hungary,  Serbia,  Montenegro,  Albania  and 
Greece.  There  are  all  varieties  of  climate,  tropical, 
subtropical  and  temperate,  according  to  the  elevation. 
Great  mountain  ranges  parallel  the  eastern  and  west- 
ern coasts.  The  elevated  plains  are  amazingly  fertile 
where  rain  falls  or  irrigation  is  possible,  but  they  are 
still  most  imperfectly  cultivated.  The  mineral  wealth 
of  Mexico  is  incomputably  great,  for  only  a  small  por- 
tion of  it  is  as  yet  known. 

(  322  ) 


The  population  is  some  fifteen  millions,  about  equal 
to  that  of  Portugal.  But  what  a  population !  Three 
centuries  of  Spanish  domination  wrought  its  baneful 
work  uncontrolled.  Cortez  and  his  followers  found  a 
gentle  and  kindly  people,  possessing  an  original  civili- 
zation, in  which  there  was  much  to  be  admired.  Those 
first  Spaniards  were,  however,  marauders  and  they 
plundered  their  almost  helpless  victims  unmercifully. 
At  last,  those  who  survived  the  reckless  ill-treatment 
of  their  military  conquerors  came  under  the  spiritual 
control  of  the  Church  and,  while  the  consolation  which 
the  Christian  faith  brought  to  this  afflicted  race  must 
have  been  very  great,  it  was  at  times  sadly  modified 
by  the  arbitrary  methods  of  too  zealous  priestly  prose- 
lyters.  I  have  myself  seen  a  copy  of  the  records  of  the 
Mexican  Office  of  the  Holy  Inquisition  for  a  period  of 
twenty  years.  It  was  obtained  by  an  American  mis- 
sionary in  Mexico  after  the  partial  breaking  up  of  the 
religious  establishments  through  action  of  the  Mexi- 
can Congress.  It  gave  sad  evidence  of  the  perversion 
of  ecclesiastical  authority,  under  which  Indian  bodies 
and  Indian  hearts  had  bled  for  God  knows  how  long 
and  how  bitterly. 

It  is  not  surprising,  in  such  a  country  and  under  a 
system  of  peonage  through  which  the  large  landowners 
could  keep  their  employes  practically  in  a  state  of 
slavery  so  long  as  they  saw  fit,  that  taking  to  the  hills 

(  323  ) 


should  become  as  popular  and  natural  in  Mexico  as 
was  once  the  case  in  Sicily. 

.  Diaz  was  wise  in  his  generation  and  saw  that  the 
bandits  were  not  to  be  rooted  out  by  force.  He  accord- 
ingly gave  orders  that  none  should  be  shot  but,  wher- 
ever possible,  they  should  be  taken  alive  and  brought 
to  him.  At  last  a  notorious  band  was  captured,  taken 
to  the  city  of  Mexico  and  brought  before  the  Presi- 
dent. Naturally  the  poor  devils  suspected  that  they 
would  be  condemned  to  torture  before  execution  but 
found  in  Diaz,  to  their  amazement,  a  sympathizing 
friend.  "Children,"  he  said  to  them,  "yours  is  an  un- 
profitable business.  Sometimes  you  make  a  strike  and 
then  for  a  time  you  live  in  luxury,  but  you  are  always 
in  peril  and  when  your  money  is  gone  you  are  in  dan- 
ger of  starvation.  Better  give  up  this  wild  life  and 
come  to  me.  I  will  make  Rural  Guards  of  you.  You 
each  shall  have  a  dollar  a  day,  a  good  horse  and  the 
costume  of  a  cavaliero  to  signify  your  office,  and  you 
will  have  authority  under  me  to  roam  about  keeping 
order  in  the  Republic.'* 

Of  course,  after  being  convinced  that  the  President 
was  in  earnest,  they  jumped  at  the  offer  and  soon  be- 
came, under  training,  admirable  guardians  of  the 
peace.  They  induced  other  bandits  to  join  them  and 
after  a  time  the  whole  country  became  far  safer  than 
it  had  ever  been,  for  these  redoubtable  recruits  to  the 

(  324  ) 


forces  of  order  understood  the  wiles  of  incorrigible 
bandits  and  so  could,  as  a  last  resort — extirpate  them. 

When  we  were  in  Mexico  it  was  said  that  Diaz  had 
thirty  thousand  of  these  "Rurales."  Of  course  they 
were  not  in  any  great  proportion  reformed  bandits  but 
certainly  this  was  a  better  use  to  which  to  put  them 
than  shooting  them  and,  besides,  the  country  was 
reasonably  tranquil  and  safe. 

It  is  natural  that  a  country  so  vast  and  rich  and 
with  a  population  whose  unfortunate  history  has  pre- 
vented the  normal  growth  of  education  and  of  the 
spirit  of  enterprise,  should  be  looked  upon  with  cove- 
tous eyes.  The  mad  expedition  of  Napoleon  III  and 
the  short  reign  of  Maximilian  are  cases  in  point.  Also 
in  these  days  in  which  I  am  writing,  there  comes  to  us 
renewed  evidence  of  German  plotting  in  that  dis- 
tracted land.  It  is  of  the  mercy  of  God  that  we  have 
had  a  Government  so  patient  and  just  as  to  refrain 
from  seriously  interfering  by  force  in  the  anarchy 
which  has  prevailed  in  Mexico  for  the  past  three  years, 
great  as  has  been  the  provocation  to  which  we  have 
been  subjected.  By  trusting  to  the  Mexicans  to  restore 
order  at  last  in  their  own  land,  we  are  now  having  our 
reward  in  seeing  order  gradually  restored  and  in  hav- 
ing no  shadow  of  seeming  self-interest  cast  upon  our 
high  resolve  now  to  put  forth  all  our  strength  to  secure 
the  final  overthrow  of  autocracy  in  Europe  and  to 

(  3'^S  ) 


stand  by  the  Allies  until  "the  world  shall  be  made  safe 
for  democracy." 

While  we  were  in  Mexico,  I  had  frequent  cause  to 
regret  the  arrogant  and  offensive  manner  of  many 
Americans  towards  the  Mexican  people.  They  were, 
to  be  sure,  usually  commercials  or  others  who  could 
not  be  suspected  of  taking  large  views  of  complicated 
social  conditions,  but  they  had  behind  them  the  tradi- 
tions of  our  long  pursuit  of  liberty  and  should  have 
shown  compassion  and  not  contempt  for  an  unfortu- 
nate but  still  hopeful  race.  Americans  were,  however, 
not  alone  in  bad  manners.  One  afternoon  I  met  Baron 
Rosen,  the  Russian  envoy,  at  the  house  of  the  Ameri- 
can Minister.  It  was  like  a  gleam  of  sunshine,  for  we 
knew  some  of  the  same  people  and  it  was  a  comfort  to 
talk  a  bit  with  a  European  of  his  profession.  At  last  I 
asked  him  a  question  relative  to  Mexican  archaeology, 
thinking  so  cultivated  a  man,  who  had  already  been 
for  several  years  in  Mexico,  might  be  able  to  tell  me  if 
the  Aztecs  had  really  possessed  a  true  literature.  He 
replied  in  a  loud  and  contemptuous  tone,  which  must 
have  been  audible  to  every  person  in  the  mixed  society 
present;  "Why  should  I  be  supposed  to  know  any- 
thing about  the  history  of  this  miserable  people!** 
Then  he  went  on  to  say  what  a  trial  exile  in  such  a 
barbarous  country  was  and  how  he  longed  to  get  out 
of  it,  that  the  American  Minister,  our  host,  was  to  be 

(326 ) 


envied,  because  he  had  at  least  something  to  do.  When 
some  time  afterward  I  heard  that  Baron  Rosen  had 
been  appointed  Russian  minister  to  Japan,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  the  post  was  one  to  which  he  was  not  con- 
spicuously suited  and  as  his  service  at  the  court  of  the 
Mikado  lasted  up  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Russian- 
Japanese  war,  the  result  of  which  was  one  of  the  sur- 
prises of  history,  my  opinion  may  not  have  been 
wholly  erroneous.  At  least  he  could  not  afterward 
complain  that  at  Tokio  he  didn't  have  "something 
to  do." 

In  contrast  to  the  gradual  unveiling  of  Tacoma's 
grandeur,  the  glories  of  the  mountain  Orizaba  burst 
abruptly  upon  our  view.  Your  mother  and  I  had  been 
weeks  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  where  Popocatepetl  and 
Istaccihuatl  became  to  us  like  familiar  friends,  com- 
panionable, soothing,  delightful.  Mexico  lies  at  a 
height  of  eight  thousand  feet,  and  therefore  the  six- 
teen thousand  feet  altitude  of  these  volcanic  moun- 
tains is  reduced  to  the  observer  on  the  Mexican  table- 
land to  about  one-half.  We  left  one  morning  for  Ori- 
zaba in  a  railroad  train  composed  of  short  cars,  all  the 
windows  of  which  were  closely  shut,  and  were  carried 
at  a  good  speed  over  the  sandy  plain  in  a  whirlwind  of 
dust  and  smoke,  quite  content  to  have  the  outside  air 
excluded.  After  some  hours  we  halted  at  Esmeralda, 
where  we  took  on  a  powerful  locomotive,  alike  at  both 

(  327  ) 


ends,  being  in  fact  a  platform  which  held  two  engines 
tandem,  and  proceeded  on  our  way.  In  a  short  time 
the  train  turned  on  a  sharp  curve  when  we  were  in- 
stantly transferred  from  the  desert  to  a  dark  green, 
tropical  wilderness,  bright  with  bloom  and  dripping 
with  moisture.  We  had  turned  the  corner  of  the  Mexi- 
can Cordillera,  the  western  slope  of  which  receives  the 
moisture  of  winds  from  the  Gulf  condensed  in  snow 
upon  their  lofty  peaks.  We  at  once  began  to  descend 
the  tortuous  pass  and  we  soon  saw  the  reason  for  the 
short  cars  and  the  powerful  locomotive.  The  curves 
were  too  short  for  a  Pullman  and  the  grade  too  steep 
for  an  ordinary  engine.  At  last,  after  a  considerable 
descent,  the  mighty  wedge  of  Orizaba,  whose  dazzHng 
top  seemed  to  pierce  the  deep  blue  sky,  stood  suddenly 
revealed. 

Throughout  Mexico  the  scenery  is  so  spectacular 
that  one  is  constantly  reminded  of  the  scenery  of  the 
stage  but  this  was  a  sight  to  drive  the  most  gifted 
scenic  artist  to  despair.  I  have  often  thought  that  the 
deep,  tender  blue  of  the  Italian  lakes  was  partly  due 
to  the  reflection  from  the  seas  which  girt  that  narrow 
peninsula,  and  this  may  also  be  the  case  in  Mexico,  for 
certainly  the  Mexican  sky  has  a  colour  richer,  clearer, 
purer,  than  any  my  eyes  have  ever  beheld. 

For  a  fortnight  we  lived  under  the  shadow  of  the 
splendid  mountain  and,  being  nearly  at  the  level  of 

(  328  ) 


the  Gulf,  the  full  majesty  of  its  prodigious  size,  with 
its  deep  and  spotless  snow-line,  displayed  itself  from 
every  point  of  view  to  our  delighted  eyes.  I  even  re- 
joiced that  I  had  been  taken  ill  in  Russia  and  needed 
a  long  holiday. 

At  the  table  d'hote  in  the  excellent  hotel  of  Orizaba, 
kept  by  a  German,  we  saw  a  lot  of  amusing  people, 
nearly  all  of  whom  were  very  ready  to  narrate  their 
experiences  of  travel  in  so  strange  a  land,  except  now 
and  then  a  young  German  officer.  Such  guests  con- 
ducted themselves  with  a  reserve  which  we  should 
now  be  able  to  understand;  it  was  a  reserve  quite  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  Germans  travelling  for  pleasure  or 
upon  business.  There  was  a  German  civil  engineer  at 
Orizaba  who  had  been  living  long  in  Mexico  and  who 
was  one  of  the  few  foreigners  I  met  who  seemed  to 
understand  and  sympathize  with  the  common  people. 
He  told  me  many  stories  of  their  patience  and  en- 
larged upon  their  stoicism  and  indifference  to  death. 
One  day  he  went  to  witness  the  execution  of  twelve 
soldiers  who  had  been  condemned  to  death  by  a  court 
martial.  There  had  been  some  delay  and,  when  all  the 
victims  had  been  ranged  against  a  stone  wall,  the 
sudden  tropical  darkness  came  down  and  the  officer 
commanding  the  firing  squad  sent  for  lanterns.  He  or- 
dered each  condemned  man  to  hold  a  lantern  so  that 
the  light  should  fall  upon  his  breast.  There  was  still 

(  329  ) 


some  delay  and  my  informant  had  opportunity  to 
carefully  observe  each  of  the  men,  and  he  assured  me 
that  not  a  hand  trembled  up  to  the  moment  when  all 
twelve  of  the  criminals  fell  dead  at  the  simultaneous 
fire  of  the  executioners.  This  German  seemed  to  have 
an  interest  in  executions,  for  he  went  to  see  a  soldier 
shot  whom  he  had  chanced  to  know.  The  man  was 
asked  if  he  had  a  last  request  and  he  said  he  would 
like  to  smoke  just  one  more  cigarette.  It  was  given 
him  and  he  smoked  it  with  great  seeming  satisfaction 
until  the  end,  when  he  tossed  it  away  and  called  out 
cheerfully:  "Shoot  away!" 

Speaking  of  shooting,  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you 
of  the  sporting  Englishman  whom  I  also  met  at  Ori- 
zaba. He  had  come  over  with  a  friend  to  shoot  grizzly 
bears  and  was  much  disappointed  at  learning  there 
was  little  chance  for  satisfactory  slaughter  in  the 
Rockies.  But  the  happy  hunting  ground  had  been 
shifted  to  Alaska  and  so  they  went  there  and  took  na- 
tive guides  and  went  into  a  wild  country  where  they 
were  certain  to  find  their  prey.  At  last  they  were  led 
cautiously  over  a  rough  bit  of  country  where,  upon 
turning  around  a  big  boulder,  they  saw  in  an  opening 
their  first  grizzly,  who  looked  to  them,  as  he  was  feed- 
ing upon  berries,  "as  big  as  a  house."  They  fired  to- 
gether and  the  bear  fell;  but  they  had  heard  so  much 
of  the  vitality,  ferocity  and  cunning  of  the  grizzly, 

(  330  ) 


that  they  thought  he  might  be  shamming,  and  so  they 
continued  firing  as  they  advanced,  until,  when  they 
reached  their  victim,  they  found  him  not  only  very 
dead,  but  with  forty  bullet  holes  through  his  body. 
The  largest  and  best  bearskin  they  ever  bagged  had 
been  ruined  by  unnecessary  precaution,  for  they  later 
learned,  all  innocent  stories  of  American  hunters  to 
the  contrary,  that  if  a  grizzly  is  shot  through  the  heart 
or  the  brain,  he  is  sure  to  be  a  dead  grizzly. 

We  left  Mexico  with  regret.  It  is  truly  a  wonder- 
land. I  had  hoped  that  we  might  repeat  our  visit  when 
we  had  greater  leisure  to  study  the  country  and  its  in- 
habitants. This  hope  we  must  now  abandon,  but  I 
hope  you  children  may  visit  Mexico  some  day  to  find 
it  redeemed  from  lawlessness,  freed  from  arbitrary 
government,  enlightened  by  education  and  by  a  re- 
formed church,  the  home  of  an  intelligent,  self-gov- 
erning people,  in  which  the  most  hopeful  and  gifted 
descendants  of  all  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  the 
two  Americas  shall  have  found  opportunity  for  legiti- 
mate development. 


1 893      Chapter  Fifteen      1893 

WE  returned  in  the  spring  of  1893  to  Europe.  On 
the  way,  I  heard  that  the  villa  **Soli  Deo  Glo- 
ria/' where  we  had  been  accustomed  to  spend  our 
summers,  had  been  sold.  I  telegraphed  to  Karl  Knoop, 
(brother  of  William  Knoop,  our  friend  and  banker, 
and  also  vice-consul),  who  had  charge  of  the  "Villa 
Dora,"  to  ask  if  he  would  rent  this  beautiful  place  to 
me  for  the  summer.  The  answer  was  favourable  and 
your  mother  and  I  went  out  to  Loschwitz  to  see  the 
property  and  arrange  for  moving  out  for  the  season.  I 
found  that  offers  to  purchase  the  property  were  being 
made  and  I  at  once  decided  to  buy  it  myself,  if  it 
could  be  bought  at  a  price  I  could  afford.  I  heard  that 
there  were  two  men  making  offers  for  the  place,  one 
Herr  Fiirstenberg,  the  able  head  of  a  great  building 
association  which  built  a  whole  new  section  of  Dres- 
den; and  another  a  Berliner,  who  was  negotiating 
through  our  dear  Frau  Degele  and  "Tante  Mile,"  as 
you  children  used  to  call  Frau  Degele's  lovely  sister. 
All  were  my  friends.  In  former  days,  when  they  were 
in  straitened  circumstances,  it  had  been  my  good 
fortune  to  show  them  some  kindnesses.  I  called  upon 
Fiirstenberg  to  say  that  I  wanted  to  buy  the  place  but 
could  not  compete  with  his  resources,  if  it  were  true 


that  he  was  intending  to  purchase  it.  Fiirstenberg  at 
once  turned  to  his  secretary  and  told  him  to  write  to 
the  party  who  had  asked  him  to  join  in  buying  the 
property  and  say  that  his  friend,  Dr.  Jenkins,  wished 
to  buy  it  and  therefore  he  declined  for  himself  and  his 
company  to  take  any  further  interest  in  the  project. 
The  Degeles,  having  heard  from  Knoop  that  I  wanted 
the  place,  in  which  they  had  a  sentimental  interest 
since  the  last  proprietors  were  their  friends,  came  to 
see  your  mother  to  say  that  they  had  spontaneously 
withdrawn  their  offer,  and  then  I  was  at  once  able  to 
conclude  the  bargain.  The  little  bread  I  had  cast  upon 
the  waters  had  returned  to  me  after  many  days. 

The  lawyer  of  the  estate,  at  the  decisive  interview, 
told  me  of  an  objectionable  party  who  wanted  to  buy 
the  estate  to  cut  up  into  building  lots  and  had  that 
very  morning  made  an  offer  which  it  was  his  duty  to 
accept;  but  if  I  would  offer  even  a  trifle  more,  he  would 
prevent  the  desecration  by  at  once  binding  himself  to 
sell  it  to  me,  and  I  closed  the  bargain  by  giving  a 
thousand  marks  beyond  the  other  offer. 

What  delight  we  had  in  our  new  acquisition !  It  was 
our  first  real  home.  To  our  mind  it  was  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  the  most  convenient  residence  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Dresden.  It  had  been  built  by  the  sculptor 
Hermann,  a  famous  man  in  his  time  and  a  favourite 
pupil  of  Thorwaldsen.  The  salon  he  had  decorated 

(  333  ) 


with  a  copy  of  Thorwaldsen's  famous  frieze  of  the 
entry  of  Alexander  into  Babylon,  the  original  of  which 
was  made  to  do  honour  to  Napoleon  upon  the  occasion 
of  his  visit  to  Rome  in  i8i  i.  It  was  probably  the  third 
copy  of  this  beautiful  work,  regarded  as  Thorwald- 
sen's greatest  achievement,  and  with  Hermann  the  re- 
production was  a  labour  of  love.  It  is  said  that  the 
great  master  visited  his  pupil  while  the  work  was  in 
progress.  The  elaborate  decoration  of  the  dining-room 
is  a  reminiscence  of  work  either  done  or  designed  by 
Hermann  at  the  Winter  Palace  and  Hermitage  in  St. 
Petersburg.  All  this  work  at  Thorwald  was  not  done 
in  marble,  but  with  a  composition  resembling  that 
stone  of  which  only  Hermann  had  the  secret;  but  it  has 
kept  its  form  admirably  for  three-quarters  of  a  cen- 
tury. Equally  well  preserved  are  the  beautiful  ara- 
besques in  the  oriental  room,  where  the  colours  are  as 
fresh  as  if  of  yesterday  and  which  is  like  a  bit  out  of 
the  Alhambra.  You  will  remember  what  an  effect  was 
produced  through  its  illumination  by  the  Christmas 
tree  and  how  it  was  made  into  a  stately,  gorgeous 
chapel  for  the  weddings  of  Grace,  your  cousin  Louise, 
and  Nora. 

Your  dear  mother  first  suggested  the  name  of 
"Thorwald"  which  we  gave  to  our  delightful  home, 
a  name  appropriate  not  only  because  of  memories  of 
Thorwaldsen,  but  also  by  reason  of  the  superb  old 

(  334  ) 


beech  and  oak  trees  in  the  park,  under  whose  shade 
one  could  imagine  the  rites  of  the  old  Norse  gods  as 
having  been  celebrated.  In  the  quarter  of  a  century 
we  have  owned  it,  the  house  has  become  filled  with 
works  of  art  and  ornaments  and  furnishings  which 
have  accumulated  during  our  long  residence  abroad, 
all  of  which  are  dear  to  us  by  some  precious  association. 

When  we  first  moved  into  our  new  old  house,  we 
were  distressed  at  not  having  furniture  suitable  to  the 
great  salon.  We  couldn't  afford  really  appropriate  fur- 
niture, for  it  would  need  to  be  designed  and  made  es- 
pecially for  the  room.  At  last  the  proverb,  "All  things 
come  round  to  him  who  waits,"  was  fulfilled.  Aunt 
Georgie  found  a  set  of  furniture  perfectly  adapted  to 
our  purpose.  It  came  from  an  old  Venetian  palace, 
was  restored  and  re-covered  in  Venice,  where  such 
work  is  well  done,  and  brought  to  Dresden  in  per- 
fect condition.  But  the  Saxon  family  who  possessed 
it  finally  gave  up  their  home  and  so  we  were  able  to 
obtain  it  at  a  reasonable  price. 

In  so  large  a  house,  and  one  planned  by  a  bachelor 
artist,  there  were  many  modern  domestic  conveni- 
ences lacking,  but  we  made  the  best  of  such  deficien- 
cies and  found  the  place  both  comfortable  and  delight- 
ful. The  glorious  prospect  over  the  valley  of  the  Elbe 
extended  to  the  Bohemian  hills  and  overlooked  Dres- 
den. The  city  during  our  residence  stretched  from 

(  33S  ) 


Plauen  to  far  beyond  Blasewitz  and  gave  us  an  illumi- 
nation at  night  more  beautiful  and  vaster  in  its  un- 
broken sweep  than  I  have  ever  seen  elsewhere.  Often 
I  have  sat  in  my  own  den  for  an  evening  at  my  writing 
desk,  and  have  lost — no,  won — precious  time  in  enjoy- 
ing the  splendid  scene. 

It  was  exactly  five  miles  from  Thorwald  to  our  old 
apartment  on  the  Walpurgisstrasse,  which  I  retained 
for  my  office,  and  I  walked  this  whole  distance,  sum- 
mer and  winter  alike,  every  morning.  There  were  resi- 
dent in  Loschwitz  and  Blasewitz  many  professional 
and  business  men  who  went  in  to  Dresden  by  boat  or 
tramcar,  but  no  one  of  them  made  a  habit  of  going 
afoot.  I  attribute  my  ability  to  endure  the  hard  work 
of  my  practice  for  so  long  to  my  habit  of  regularly 
taking  my  walking  exercise.  It  was  by  no  means  lost 
time.  I  walked  almost  always  over  the  same  route  and 
spent  much  of  my  time  in  thinking  over  and  planning 
my  work  for  the  day,  which  greatly  facilitated  its  ac- 
complishment. But  the  habit  became  fixed  and  now, 
wherever  I  am,  I  find  myself  often  embarrassed  by 
taking  my  exercise  in  a  state  of  mental  abstraction, 
which  causes  me  to  pass  by  my  best  friend  without 
seeing  him  and  occasionally  takes  me  much  out  of  my 
way. 

Our  new  possession  soon  came  to  serve  an  unex- 
pected purpose.  During  the  nineties  I  became  much 

(336) 


interested  in  using  porcelain  inlays  for  filling  teeth. 
This  operation,  which  required  much  skill  and  pa- 
tience, had  very  great  advantages.  It  was  much  less 
trying  to  the  patient.  The  liability  to  secondary  de- 
cay was  notably  reduced.  Upon  setting  such  an  inlay, 
the  tooth  became  immediately  as  insusceptible  to 
changes  of  temperature  as  if  it  had  never  been  dis- 
eased, and  the  colour  of  the  tooth  could  be  so  exactly 
matched  as  to  conceal  the  art  of  the  restorer. 

The  porcelain  bodies  in  use  for  the  purpose  had, 
however,  serious  defects.  Some  could  be  fused  only  at 
a  temperature  so  high  that  the  desired  density  and 
colour  of  the  inlay  were  not  easily  secured.  Others 
melted  at  so  low  a  temperature  that  contour  was 
nearly  or  quite  impossible  to  obtain. 

I  therefore  began  to  search  for  a  body  which  should 
not  have  these  defects  and  to  develop  a  more  simple 
and  exact  technique,  which  should  make  this  engag- 
ing art  general,  instead  of  being,  as  it  was  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  practised  only  by  a  few  rarely  skilful 
dentists,  whose  aesthetic  sense  had  revolted  at  the  bar- 
baric display  of  gold  in  the  mouths  of  their  patients. 

This  was  by  no  means  an  easy  task,  engaged  as  I 
was  in  carrying  on  a  practice  which  demanded  all  my 
time  and  greatly  taxed  my  power  of  endurance;  but  at 
last,  one  September,  I  took  a  belated  vacation  and 
went  to  Gablonz  to  learn  something  of  the  smelting 

(  337  ) 


methods  used  in  that  region.  Your  mother  and  I 
stayed  there  three  weeks  and  when  we  returned  she 
said  to  me  that  she  thought  she  could  help  me  in  the 
work  I  was  trying  to  do  under  so  many  difficulties.  It 
was  a  light  from  Heaven.  Help  me?  No,  she  could  do 
it  unaided  better  than  I  could  have  done  under  any 
circumstances.  We  fitted  up  the  romantic  sculptor's 
studio  in  the  park  with  various  smelting  furnaces  and 
other  apparatus;  the  painter's  atelier  near  the  stable 
made  an  excellent  grinding  room,  and  we  turned  a 
large,  well-lighted  room  in  the  villa  into  a  laboratory 
thus  securing  ideal  conditions  for  the  work.  The  time 
ran  into  years  in  which  we  wrought  and  dreamed  and 
thought  porcelain  enamel  day  and  night.  Your  dear 
mother  was  wonderful  in  her  capacity  for  steady  ap- 
plication and  for  her  marvellous  accuracy.  There  was 
never  a  problem  she  did  not  solve  with  seeming  ease. 
Our  dear  Professor  Hempel,  who  took  a  great  interest 
in  our  work  and  was  helpful  in  many  ways,  told  me  he 
had  never  seen  so  capable  a  woman  and  that  she 
ought  to  have  been  a  chemist,  for  he  found  her  pos- 
sessed of  the  kind  of  mind  necessary  to  the  making  of 
a  scientist.  She  had  also  a  talent  for  teaching  others 
how  to  work  accurately  and  when  it  came  to  any  sud- 
den emergency  she  was  as  inventive  as  Edison  him- 
self. My  part  became  entirely  subordinate.  I  could 
test  her  results  and  explain  what  was  still  lacking, 

(338  ) 


but  this  work  would  never  have  been  completed  but 
for  your  mother's  genius.  Thorwald  was  admirably 
adapted  to  the  purpose,  for  it  was  free  from  dust  and 
noise  and  interruptions  were  avoidable.  Sweet  Marie 
Meves  was  our  housekeeper  during  most  of  this  time 
and  saved  your  dear  mother  much  care  and  trouble, 
besides  being  to  us  all  a  cherished  companion  and 
friend. 

We  were  obliged  to  use  hydrogen  gas,  for  we  could 
not  have  illuminating  gas  at  Thorwald,  because  the 
prudent  Dresden  Government  had  not  calculated 
upon  a  considerable  increase  in  the  population  of 
Loschwitz  and  so  had  laid  gas  pipes  only  equal  to  the 
contemporary  demand.  So  only  the  first  comers  could 
be  served,  leaving  those  who  came  later  to  be  in  outer 
darkness,  except  for  oil,  until  the  electric  light  ap- 
peared. 

Here  I  must  tell  you  the  story  of  how  I  did  not  get 
any  of  the  original  Edison  stock.  I  had  become  inter- 
ested in  Leiter's  electrical  apparatus  for  illuminating 
the  stomach  with  an  incandescent  light  surrounded 
by  a  current  of  cooling  water  and  having  a  series  of 
reflecting  lenses  to  throw  the  light  to  the  eye.  I  used 
such  a  light  for  the  mouth,  despite  its  inconvenient 
coohng  system,  and  when  I  chanced  to  read  that  a 
group  of  enthusiasts  had  raised  a  fund  to  enable  Edi- 
son to  carry  on  his  experiments  in  electric  lighting  and 

(  339  ) 


that  the  shares  were  only  a  hundred  dollars  each,  I 
wrote  Cousin  Joe  Folsom  to  say  that  I  wished  to  have 
him  buy  for  me  three  shares.  I  chanced  to  have  a  bal- 
ance of  three  hundred  dollars  with  him  and,  being 
quite  oblivious  of  the  commercial  side  of  the  enter- 
prise but  greatly  impressed  with  its  scientific  possi- 
bilities, I  wanted  to  do  my  share  in  helping  on  these 
investigations.  In  due  time  I  received  a  letter  from 
Joe  saying  he  regarded  the  whole  business  as  "wild 
cat"  and  refusing  to  let  me  risk  my  money  until  he 
heard  again  from  me.  Just  then  came  the  announce- 
ment by  cable  of  Edison's  immortal  discovery  and  in 
a  single  day  those  despised  shares  went  up  to  five 
thousand  dollars  apiece.  Fancy  poor  Joe's  chagrin! 
But  I  only  hope  the  recording  angel  will  graciously 
put  down  my  unreasoning  impulse  to  its  true  cause, 
and  it  might  have  been  my  ruin  to  have  got  such  a  pot 
of  money  by  a  fluke. 

We  were  able  to  make  porcelain  enamel  in  many 
shades  of  colour  and  any  competent  dentist  could  learn 
how  to  make  an  inlay  which  would  not  only  restore 
the  colour  and  form  of  the  tooth,  but  also  the  restora- 
tion was  accomplished  with  far  less  pain  and  strain 
than  the  patient  was  called  upon  to  endure  under  the 
methods  of  filling  teeth  previously  in  vogue.  More- 
over, the  porcelain  inlay  was  distinctly  less  liable  to 
secondary  caries  than  gold  fillings,  especially  at  gum 

(  340  ) 


margins,  where  gold  cannot  be  kept  so  free  from  fer- 
menting carbohydrates,  with  which  dental  caries 
begins. 

I  have  just  seen,  January,  1918,  in  the  practice  of 
an  eminent  colleague  in  Boston,  a  striking  evidence  of 
the  preservative  properties  of  porcelain.  In  compli- 
cated cavities,  where  he  was  using  Taggett's  epochal 
method  of  making  gold  inlays,  he  had  protected  the 
vulnerable  approximal  gum  margins  by  small  porce- 
lain inlays,  beyond  which  were  inserted  the  gold  in- 
lays which  were  to  bear  the  force  of  mastication.  In 
every  respect,  progress  has  been  made  in  my  profes- 
sion since  the  late  nineties  of  the  last  century,  when  I 
was  able  to  demonstrate  to  a  somewhat  reluctantly 
believing  world  that  porcelain  inlays  could  be  made, 
in  many  instances,  to  better  purpose  than  gold  fill- 
ings; but  this  evidence  of  the  survival  of  confidence  in 
the  preservative  character  of  porcelain  has  been  very 
pleasing  to  me. 

Not  that  we  did  not  find  abundant  reward  in  our 
own  labours.  The  work  was  a  delight  in  itself,  as  all 
creative  work  is,  but  the  readiness  with  which  the  re- 
sult was  received  by  the  European  dentists  and  the 
interest  it  excited  in  America  were  most  gratifying. 
Porcelain  enamel  had  its  chief  triumph,  however,  in 
Europe.  It  appealed  to  the  aesthetic  sense  of  the  Eu- 
ropean peoples,  who,  to  a  far  greater  degree  than 

(341  ) 


Americans,  object  to  being  disfigured  by  the  art  of 
the  dentist,  and  this  was  an  additional  reason  for  its 
popularity  with  European  dentists.  I  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  my  system  adopted  and  well  taught 
in  all  the  chief  University  Dental  Institutes  in  Europe 
and  some  of  my  European  colleagues  went  so  far  as 
to  use  this  method,  for  aesthetic  and  hygienic  reasons, 
in  all  restorations  on  any  surfaces  of  the  teeth  which 
were  attacked  by  decay. 

In  the  early  years  of  the  propaganda,  I  had  occasion 
to  make  many  journeys  and  to  demonstrate  and  ex- 
plain the  system  to  many  audiences  in  many  coun- 
tries; and  numberless  colleagues,  often  from  the  most 
distant  lands,  did  me  the  honour  of  visiting  me  in  Dres- 
den, to  see  for  themselves  how  the  results  were  ob- 
tained. Professor  Hesse,  of  Leipzig,  came  on  one  occa- 
sion and  spent  a  week  with  me.  He  wished  to  instruct 
his  classes  in  the  new  art  and  thought  a  week  would 
suffice  to  gain  a  teaching  knowledge  adequate  to  the 
purpose.  But  his  wife  subsequently  told  me  that,  for  a 
month  after  his  return,  she  never  saw  him  except  at 
table,  for,  with  true  German  thoroughness,  he  de- 
voted all  his  time,  by  day  and  by  night,  to  this  sub- 
ject, until  he  was  sure  he  was  competent  to  teach  it, 
he  having  underestimated  the  difficulty  of  mastering 
a  new  technique  so  as  to  make  it  plain  to  students. 

When  the  work  was  at  last  finished,  it  created  a  sen- 

(  342  ) 


sation  among  my  colleagues.  I  had  invented  a  gas  ap- 
paratus for  fusing  the  inlays,  which  was  useful  in 
places  where  electricity  could  not  be  obtained.  With 
this  apparatus,  the  entire  process  could  be  observed 
without  strain  upon  the  eyesight,  thus  making  the  re- 
sult more  certain  than  with  the  high  fusing  bodies, 
which  had  to  be  melted  in  a  closed  electric  furnace. 
Above  all  other  excellencies,  however,  porcelain  en- 
amel could  be  melted  in  a  gold-foil  matrix.  Gold  foil 
could  be  used  much  thinner  than  the  platinum  foil 
which  was  necessary  for  the  high  fusing  bodies,  and 
therefore  the  line  between  the  inlay  and  the  edges  of 
the  cavity  was  made  practically  invisible. 

How  we  rejoiced  over  the  completed  work,  if  indeed 
any  mortal  work  can  ever  be  called  complete.  I  had 
occasion  to  demonstrate  the  process  and  to  lecture 
upon  the  subject  in  various  European  countries  and 
in  America,  up  to  the  time  of  the  World  War.  Indeed, 
I  had  written  by  request  a  paper  upon  the  subject  for 
the  International  Dental  Congress  which  had  just 
convened  in  London,  when  the  war  broke  out.  The 
paper  gave  statistics  showing  how  much  more  gener- 
ally and  successfully  this  method  was  taught  and 
practised  in  Europe  than  in  America,  a  fact  largely 
explicable  through  the  greater  willingness  of  Ameri- 
cans to  submit  tamely  to  unnecessary  disfigurement, 
because  it  was  the  custom  in  their  own  country.  Both 

(  343  ) 


because  of  my  profession  and  as  an  American,  I  have 
felt  chagrined  at  so  often  seeing  my  fellow  country- 
men in  Europe  recognized  afar  off  by  their  gold-be- 
spangled teeth.  Since  the  general  introduction  of  gold 
inlays  and  gold  crowns,  the  offense  against  good  taste 
has  become  greater.  Better  results  can,  however,  cer- 
tainly be  obtained  without  this  glaring  disfigurement 
and  I  hope  it  will  eventually  become  the  rule  to  avoid 
methods  so  objectionable  when  society  has  settled 
down  to  peaceful  pursuits  once  more. 


1898      Chapter  Sixteen      1899 

T 11  riTH  the  closing  year  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
^  *  the  Boer  War  broke  out.  Four  years  earher  I 
had  been  shocked  at  the  Jameson  raid  and,  in  common 
with  all  the  world,  had  hoped  that  the  telegram  of  the 
German  Emperor  to  Kruger,  congratulating  him  upon 
the  suppression  of  a  mad  exploit,  was  only  a  sponta- 
neous and  genuine  expression  of  sympathy  for  a  peo- 
ple unjustly  attacked.  Holstein  gave  it  this  meaning 
and  told  me  he  was  greatly  astonished  that  it  should 
have  been  misunderstood  and  resented  in  England. 
But  when  the  war  occurred,  the  whole  German  press 
went  wild  with  furious  anger  against  England  and  the 
British  peoples  and,  for  the  first  time,  I  began  to  fear 
the  result  of  the  pervading  expression  of  contempt 
and  hatred  towards  other  nations,  which  had  been  in- 
creasingly evident  in  the  German  press  ever  since  the 
Emperor  had  dismissed  Bismarck  and  had  become  his 
own  chancellor. 

A  year  before,  our  war  with  Spain  had  been  con- 
cluded by  an  honourable  peace,  but  during  the  war  the 
press  of  both  Germany  and  Austria  were,  in  general, 
bitterly  hostile  to  America  and  characterized  the  con- 
ditions of  peace  as  brutal  and  hypocritical,  especially 
as  regards  the  Philippines  and  Cuba.  Indeed,  no  one 

(345) 


on  the  continent  of  Europe  seemed  to  believe  that  we 
would  keep  our  word  and  set  Cuba  free,  and  when, 
at  last,  that  turbulent  island  was  evacuated  by  the 
American  army,  not  once  but  twice,  leaving  the  Cu- 
bans to  govern  themselves  as  they  saw  fit,  it  was  re- 
garded by  many  amateur  and  professional  diplomats 
and  statesmen  as  a  marvel  of  stupidity  or  of  duplicity, 
or  a  mixture  of  both.  The  British  alone  understood 
that  we  would  keep  our  word  and  the  reply  of  Lord 
Salisbury,  who  was  then  the  British  Prime  Minister, 
emphatically  rejecting  a  secret  proposal  to  join  in  a 
European  coalition  against  the  United  States  and  de- 
claring that  if  such  a  league  were  formed,  England 
would  be  found  upon  the  side  of  America,  was  an  act 
of  appreciation  and  friendship  which  should  never  be 
forgotten. 

When  we  first  came  to  Germany,  we  were  received 
cordially  and  became  interested  in  and  much  attached 
to  the  kindly  people.  That  attachment  increased  upon 
more  intimate  acquaintance.  Those  whom  we  knew 
best  were  charming  in  their  manners,  cultivated  in 
mind,  humane  and  generous  in  spirit.  The  charm 
which  one  finds  in  European  life  and  society  never  de- 
serted us  and  we  were  daily  grateful  that  our  lot  had 
been  cast  in  Dresden,  among  the  gentle  and  sympa- 
thetic Saxon  people.  I  acquainted  myself  with  many 
phases  of  their  political  and  social  life  and  found  much 

( 346 ) 


to  commend,  especially  in  their  admirable  system  of 
municipal  government,  many  phases  of  which  I  still 
hope  may  ultimately  be  adopted  in  America. 

I  could,  however,  not  approve  of  the  overwhelming 
influence  of  the  Imperial  Government  and  the  mili- 
tary caste,  but  always  hoped  and  believed  that,  with 
the  tremendous  expansion  of  German  trade  and  com- 
merce, the  German  people  would  finally  come  to  their 
own  and  learn  the  complicated  art  of  self-government. 
So  far  as  lay  in  my  power,  I  tried  to  interpret  America 
to  Germany  and  Germany  to  America  in  various  ways 
in  both  countries.  The  following  letters  may  serve  to 
show  how  I  endeavoured  to  enlighten  German  opinion 
regarding  the  Spanish  war. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Dresdner  Anzeiger: 

Sir: — 

As  an  American  resident  of  Dresden  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
and  as  one  who  has  learned  to  admire  and  love  the  gifted  and 
magnanimous  German  people,  permit  me  to  offer  a  few  observa- 
tions upon  the  war  which  is  unhappily  waging  between  Spain 
and  the  United  States,  and  some  of  the  results  which  must  in- 
evitably flow  from  this  conflict. 

At  the  outset  I  may  say  that  no  excuse  can  be  offered  for 
the  exasperating  language  of  Congress  and  a  portion  of  the 
American  press,  before  the  outbreak  of  hostilities.  .  .  .  But 
neither  a  passionate  Congress,  nor  a  licentious  press,  could  have 
brought  about  war  of  themselves.  Not  the  distressing  loss  of  the 

(  347  ) 


Maine,  under  which  the  American  people  maintained  their  com- 
posure with  noble  self-restraint,  not  greed  of  territory,  nor  long- 
ing for  military  glory  plunged  us  into  this  conflict,  but  the  re- 
ports of  American  consuls  in  Cuba,  as  well  as  those  of  members 
of  Congress  who  visited  the  unhappy  island,  excited  the  hu- 
manitarian sentiments  of  the  nation  to  a  degree  which  made 
war  first  possible  and  then  unavoidable.  Now  that  her  perni- 
cious rule  is  drawing  to  a  close,  the  long  history  of  Spain's  mis- 
government  of  her  colonies  need  not  be  greatly  dwelt  upon.  It 
has  always  been  characterized  by  greed  and  cruelty.  Even  in 
the  lifetime  of  Columbus,  Spaniards  nearly  exterminated  the 
natives  of  Hispaniola.  Spain  found  in  Mexico  a  civilization,  in 
some  respects,  superior  to  her  own  and  she  stamped  it  out  with 
a  fiery  zeal  which  made  native  progress  impossible  for  centuries. 
She  has  refused  to  learn  the  lesson  of  her  own  history.  One  after 
another  her  splendid  American  possessions  have  revolted  and 
gained  their  liberty,  but  she  has  not  reformed  her  ways  nor 
known  pity  for  the  oppressed. 

The  ten-year-long  Cuban  insurrection,  from  1868  to  1878, 
was  terminated  by  an  agreement  between  the  Spaniards  and 
Cubans,  in  which  the  former  promised  complete  home  rule  to 
Cuba.  This  promise  was  never  fulfilled,  but  the  old  system  of 
excessive  taxation  and  enforced  tribute,  levied  by  Spanish  offi- 
cials, was  continued.  In  one  year,  with  a  population  of  less  than 
two  millions,  the  official  taxes  amounted  to  about  twenty-six 
million  dollars,  of  which  only  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  were  spent  upon  internal  improvement  in 
Cuba.  Is  it  surprising  that  a  population,  two-thirds  of  whom 
are  of  European  blood,  enraged  by  Spanish  perfidy  and  nearly 
ruined  by  Spanish  rapacity,  should  again  have  revolted  in  1895 
and  have  declared  that  this  time  they  would  trust  no  Spanish 

(348 ) 


promises  and  accept  only  complete  independence?  From  the  be- 
ginning the  war  was  waged  with  terrible  ferocity  and,  although 
the  numbers  of  the  insurgents  under  arms  were  insignificant 
compared  to  the  Spanish  army  sent  against  them,  their  spirit 
was  so  determined  and  the  topography  of  the  country  so  favour- 
able to  their  method  of  warfare,  that  they  were  able  to  keep  up 
the  conflict  with  no  serious  signs  of  exhaustion.  Two  years 
ago  President  Cleveland  warned  the  Spanish  Government  that 
America  could  not  remain  indifferent  to  such  warfare,  indefi- 
nitely protracted  at  her  very  door,  and  last  year  President  Mc- 
Kinley  repeated  the  warning.  The  Spanish  reply  was  the  awful 
expedient  of  driving  the  rural  population,  in  revolted  provinces, 
into  the  towns,  destroying  their  crops,  and  making  no  adequate 
provision  for  their  support.  When  the  shocking,  but  probably 
exaggerated  report,  came  to  America  that  two  hundred  thou- 
sand of  these  helpless  people,  largely  women  and  children,  had 
perished  through  Spanish  inhumanity,  American  patience  was 
exhausted  and  the  war  became  inevitable.  No  concessions  could 
then  avail.  They  had  been  too  long  delayed  and  no  one  believed 
in  their  reality. 

It  is  difficult  to  explain,  to  a  Continental  European,  the  force 
of  the  humanitarian  and  religious  sentiment  which  character- 
izes the  Anglo-Saxon  peoples.  After  three  centuries  Puritan 
England  is  found  indelibly  stamped  upon  American  character. 
No  war,  which  is  not  forced  upon  us,  is  possible  if  not  upheld  by 
the  national  conscience.  When,  in  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
over  the  Venezuela  Question,  Congress  was  doing  all  in  its 
power  to  prevent  a  peaceful  settlement,  the  churches,  upon  an 
historic  Sunday,  raised  their  voices  all  over  America  in  the 
cause  of  peace,  and  from  that  moment  war  was  impossible. 
But,  when  the  crisis  with  Spain  arrived,  the  churches  were 

(  349  ) 


either  silent,  or  confined  themselves  to  perfunctory  remarks 
upon  the  blessing  of  peace,  or  else  openly  advocated  the  Chris- 
tian duty  to  break  the  bonds  of  the  oppressor  and  let  the  op- 
pressed go  free.  In  spite  of  the  raving  of  a  small  band  of  Jingoes, 
who  wanted  war  for  many  unworthy  reasons,  the  war  with 
Spain  has  been  made  possible  by  American  humanitarian  senti- 
ment and  by  that  alone.  It  is  natural  that  this  statement  should 
excite  foreign  incredulity  everywhere  except  in  England,  where 
alone  this  half-reasoning  sentiment  is  understood.  It  is  in  every- 
one's memory  that,  after  the  dreadful  events  which  occurred  in 
Armenia  and  Crete,  through  the  misrule  of  another  incapable 
Power,  it  was  only  in  Great  Britain  that  there  was  a  strong 
popular  sentiment  in  favour  of  forcible  intervention,  which,  at 
one  time,  the  British  government  had  some  difficulty  in  with- 
standing. Cuba  is  our  Crete;  fortunately  we  have  a  free  hand 
to  bring  her  deliverance. 

But,  hurriedly  as  this  war  was  begun,  it  is  natural  that  an 
excited  people  should  not  have  foreseen  its  inevitable  conse- 
quences. In  these  few  weeks  public  opinion  has  been  rapidly 
maturing  and  now  America  sees  that  the  stars  in  their  courses 
have  been  moving  on,  not  more  certainly  to  a  definite  purpose, 
than  has  she.  The  policy  suitable  to  a  small  nation,  inhabiting 
a  narrow  fringe  on  the  borders  of  a  great  continent,  when  it  took 
four  months  for  the  news  of  the  victory  of  the  American  fleet 
over  Algerian  pirates  to  reach  Washington,  is  plainly  inade- 
quate now  to  the  needs  of  a  mighty  people,  stretching  their 
magnificent  domain  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  with  great  Euro- 
pean and,  possibly,  at  any  moment,  hostile,  fleets  scarcely  a 
week  distant  from  her  shores.  But  it  is  with  no  light  heart  that 
we  break  from  our  traditional  past  and  assume  the  role  of  a 
world  power.  We  mournfully  recognize  but  shall  try  fitly  to 

(  3SO  ) 


fulfil  our  destiny.  We  may  not  find  it  wise  to  establish  a  great 
army,  although  doubtless  the  day  of  such  a  skeleton  army,  as 
we  have  had  for  the  generation  past,  is  gone  forever,  but  we 
must,  whether  we  will  or  no,  build  up  a  fleet  after  the  European 
fashion.  It  is  the  invention  of  the  triple  expansion  marine  engine 
which  makes  our  former  seclusion  no  longer  possible.  A  month 
ago  we  had  no  conception  of  what  the  possession  of  the  Philip- 
pines would  mean  to  us.  We  knew,  in  an  academic  way,  that  for 
naval  operations  coal  and  coaling  stations  were  necessary,  but 
we  did  not  realize  these  facts  until  we  began  to  move  our  fleets 
for  purposes  of  war.  Bound  by  the  influence  of  the  old  tradition 
that  we  should  confine  our  interests  to  our  own  continent,  we 
have,  for  several  years,  steadily  refused  to  accept  the  Hawaiian 
Islands,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  repeatedly  begged  for  an- 
nexation. The  treaty  made  by  Gen.  Grant,  for  the  purchase  of 
the  Danish  West  Indian  Islands,  was  disavowed  by  the  Senate, 
to  the  great  mortification  of  the  government.  Now  it  seems  that 
the  acquisition  of  both  may  become  a  necessity.  Like  Great 
Britain,  we  must  make  our  navy  our  first  line  of  defence,  and, 
like  her,  we  must  provide  ourselves  with  naval  bases  in  both  the 
great  oceans.  Then  naturally  follows  the  building  of  the  Nica- 
ragua Canal,  probably  under  the  auspices  of  the  American  gov- 
ernment. What  our  dormant  commerce  could  not  achieve  may 
be  possible  through  larger  national  interests. 

Another  result  of  this  sudden  emerging  into  larger  life, — and 
one  of  great  importance  to  Germany,  with  whom  we  have,  next 
to  Great  Britain,  our  largest  trade, — will  be  the  reduction  of  the 
tariff.  Excessive  protection  has  failed  to  produce  the  necessary 
revenue  in  times  of  peace,  and  will  be  yet  more  inadequate  in 
time  of  war.  Besides  this,  we  must,  like  Germany,  find  new 
markets  for  our  surplus  products,  and,  for  this  purpose,  we 

(351 ) 


must  abandon  a  policy  of  unenlightened  selfishness  and  learn  to 
both  give  and  take  on  something  like  conditions  of  equality. 
Finally,  the  relations  between  Europe  and  America  must  be- 
come more  intimate.  In  the  European  sense,  America  will 
hardly  contract  alliances,  but  a  moral  alliance,  such  as  is  now 
being  formed  with  Great  Britain,  is  of  great  import.  It  is  sud- 
denly seen  that  the  interests  of  the  two  Anglo-Saxon  Powers 
are,  in  many  ways,  identical,  and  instantly  all  pending  ques- 
tions are  in  the  way  of  friendly  settlement.  But  this  is  not  a  case 
of  material  interest  alone.  It  is  also  a  question  of  sentiment.  It 
is  but  a  poor  philosophy  that  takes  no  account  of  the  great  part 
which  the  nobler  emotions  play  in  human  history.  In  this  trying 
moment,  when,  for  a  generous  purpose,  we  have  suddenly 
plunged  into  a  war,  for  which — great  as  is  our  potential  force — 
we  were  all  unprepared,  we  deeply  feel  the  conspicuous  sym- 
pathy of  our  British  brethren.  Next  to  that  of  Great  Britain  we 
desire  the  moral  support  of  Germany.  We  understand,  and 
share,  the  chivalrous  sentiment  which  instinctively  sides  with 
the  weak  against  the  strong,  and  we  bear  Germans  no  ill  will 
that  they  feel  emotions  of  pity  for  a  people  who — whatever 
their  defects — are  a  brave  and  noble  race  and  have  played  a 
great  part  in  history;  and  we  deeply  regret,  with  them,  the 
pathetic  spectacle  of  a  lonely  queen,  bravely  contending  for  a 
nation's  honour  and  her  son's  throne,  against  external  and  in- 
ternal foes;  but  we  beg  them  to  remember  that  the  Germanic 
peoples  do  not  appeal  to  arms  for  trivial  reasons,  that  our  cause 
is  that  of  human  liberty,  and  that  our  honour  is  pledged  to 
achieve  the  independence  of  Cuba  and  to  leave  her  then  to  fulfil 
her  own  destiny. 

Newell  Sill  Jenkins 

(  3S'^  ) 


SOME  AMERICAN  REFLECTIONS  UPON  THE 
SPANISH  WAR 

With  the  signing  of  the  treaty  of  Paris  the  curtain  falls  upon  the 
last  act  of  a  drama  which  has  been  playing  for  four  centuries. 
From  the  discovery  of  America  there  has  been  an  irrepressible 
conflict  between  Germanic  and  Latin  civilization.  The  intrepid 
feet  of  English  navigators  trod  the  icy  shores  of  Labrador  two 
years  before  Columbus  reached  the  mainland  of  the  continent, 
but  the  gradual  English  occupation  of  Virginia  and  New  Eng- 
land, insignificant  points  in  an  inhospitable  wilderness,  must 
have  seemed  contemptible  to  the  proud  nation  which  held  pos- 
session of  the  rich,  populous  and  fruitful  lands  washed  by  the 
summer  seas.  This  splendid  Latin  empire  extended,  from  Flor- 
ida and  the  West  India  islands,  southward  to  Cape  Horn  and 
then  northward,  on  the  Pacific,  to  Upper  California.  Its  native 
inhabitants  were,  for  the  most  part,  timid  and  inoffensive  peo- 
ple, easy  to  subdue  and  govern,  and  largely  capable  of  civiliza- 
tion; in  striking  contrast  to  the  fierce  and  warlike  North  Ameri- 
can Indians  with  whom  the  English  colonists  had  to  contend. 
But  the  differences  of  environment  were  not  greater  than  the 
differences  of  character  and  of  methods  of  government  between 
these  two  civilizations.  The  Latins  had  behind  them  a  powerfiil 
military  empire  and  a  splendidly  organized  and  most  efficient 
ecclesiastical  system,  and  were  possessed  by  a  fiery  zeal  and 
guided  by  a  true  genius  for  conquest.  Great  armies  and  powerful 
fleets  did  their  bidding.  Theirs  were  the  mines  of  Mexico  and 
Peru  as  well  as  the  unrequitedlabourof  millions  of  slaves.  But 
their  rule  was  one  of  force,  of  selfishness  and  cruelty.  Their  gov- 
ernment was  an  absolute  despotism  centred  in  distant  Madrid. 
They  trampled  upon  their  helpless  native  victims,  as  well  as 
upon  colonial-born  Europeans,  in  perfect  indifference  to  their 

(  3S3  ) 


sufferings  and  in  contempt  of  common  justice.  They  held  their 
people  in  physical  and  spiritual  bondage  and  in  blinding  ig- 
norance. 

The  scattered  English  colonies,  however,  began  their  feeble 
existence  upon  those  principles  of  personal  liberty  and  local 
self-government  which  were  brought  to  Britain,  together  with 
the  first  Englishmen,  by  the  followers  of  Hengist  and  Horsa. 
They  had  no  armies  for  conquest.  No  fleets  brought  them  fre- 
quent succour.  No  slaves  toiled  for  them  in  inexhaustible  mines. 
With  their  own  hands  they  felled  the  forests  and  wrung  a  pre- 
carious existence  from  the  stormy  sea  and  a  reluctant  soil.  They 
feared  God  and  honoured  the  King,  but  they  honoured  their  own 
manhood  more.  For  the  most  part  the  English  government  left 
them  alone  and  they  grew  up  evolving  their  own  civilization 
and  establishing  it  upon  the  foundation  of  equal  rights  before 
the  law  and  complete  religious  freedom,  and  developing  an  in- 
dividual self-reliance,  which,  if  not  always  lovely,  rendered 
them  capable  of  great  deeds.  They  hated  war,  but  from  Quebec 
to  Buena  Vista,  from  Chapultepec  to  Santiago,  the  trained 
Latin  forces  went  down  before  their  undisciplined  valour,  as,  at 
last,  the  whole  Latin  system  has  fallen  before  them.  It  is  not  of 
naval  and  military  victories  that  America  is  most  proud.  Her 
greatest  triumphs  are  those  of  humanity.  As  the  champion  of 
liberty  she  has  seen  her  political  theories  prevail  until  there  is 
no  longer,  throughout  the  whole  western  hemisphere,  a  single 
nation,  however  distant  from  the  United  States,  which  has  not 
the  opportunity  to  govern  itself  after  its  own  fashion.  History 
records  no  greater  triumph  of  a  noble  principle,  a  principle 
which  existed  entire  in  our  distant  Germanic  ancestors  and 
which  each  of  the  three  great  Germanic  peoples  has  developed, 
to  the  blessing  of  the  world,  in  its  own  way. 

(  354  ) 


The  American  conditions  of  peace  are  marked  by  every  pos- 
sible consideration  for  the  vanquished,  consistent  with  com- 
plete deliverance  of  the  oppressed  victims  of  Spanish  rule. 
America  evacuates  Cuba  so  soon  as  a  stable  government  can  be 
formed.  She  protects  all  Spanish  private  rights  and  interests, 
guarantees  freedom  of  religion  in  all  the  territory  ceded  by 
Spain,  leaves  Spanish  subjects  free  to  retain  their  allegiance  to 
Spain,  admits  for  ten  years  Spanish  ships  and  merchandise  to 
ports  in  the  Philippines  upon  the  same  terms  as  her  own,  and 
engages  to  send  back  to  Spain  the  prisoners  in  the  Philippines, 
either  in  the  hands  of  her  own  forces  or  those  of  the  insurgents, 
at  her  own  expense,  besides  paying  80,000,000  marks  for  the 
debts  legitimately  contracted  by  Spain  in  the  Philippines  for 
other  purposes  than  subduing  the  insurgents. 

Of  course  the  question  of  the  Philippines  has  been  the  most 
difficult  for  us.  A  great  number  of  the  most  intelligent  and  pa- 
triotic Americans  have  been  bitterly  opposed  to  the  acquisition 
of  the  Philippines  upon  any  conditions,  and,  from  the  narrow 
standpoint  of  purely  selfish  interests,  their  arguments  are  well- 
nigh  irrefutable.  Only  unfortunately  they  are  unable  to  tell  us 
what  else  shall  be  done  with  these  islands.  Our  Saxon  ancestors 
called  every  member  of  the  clan  a  "Brother  of  the  Sword"  and 
each  was  ready  at  any  moment  to  venture  his  life  for  him  who 
had  fought  at  his  side.  We  placed  arms  in  the  hands  of  the  Phil- 
ippine insurgents  and  they  fought  with  us  to  overthrow  the 
Spanish  tyranny.  We  should  be  forever  disgraced  should  we 
turn  over  these  Brothers  of  the  Sword  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
their  former  oppressors,  or  leave  them,  in  their  national  child- 
hood, unguided  and  unprotected,  to  stand — and  fall  alone.  But 
this  question  has  a  deeper  significance.  We  feel,  rather  than 
understand,  that  the  Pacific  Ocean,  upon  which  we  have  4000 

(  35S  ) 


miles  of  coast,  is  destined  to  become  that  highway  of  the  na- 
tions which  the  Mediterranean  once  was.  With  the  building  of 
the  Nicaragua  canal,  the  growth  of  the  Pacific  states,  and  the 
awaking  of  the  Far  East,  our  position  in  the  Pacific  islands  may 
be  of  great  importance.  We  have  followed,  with  especial  inter- 
est and  sympathy,  the  growing  instinct  for  colonial  expansion  in 
Germany,  and  believe  that  it  is  no  ordinary  accident  which  has 
given  her  a  foothold  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia.  It  is  the  natu- 
ral result  of  the  great  increase  of  commerce  and  the  spirit  of 
enterprise  under  the  Empire.  But  with  her,  as  with  us,  there  is 
a  sense  of  surprise  at  finding  ourselves  suddenly  possessed  of 
new  points  of  observation  over  our  great  and  ever-increasing 
commercial  interests  in  the  Farther  East,  and,  if  those  interests 
are  destined  to  become  identical  with  those  of  England  in  keep- 
ing the  open  door  to  trade  and  preventing  four  hundred  millions 
of  Chinamen  from  becoming  a  danger  to  the  higher  civilization, 
it  may  well  be  that  the  role  which  England  and  America  have 
played  in  the  western  hemisphere  may  yet  be  played  by  the 
three  Germanic  powers  in  Asia.  Just  as  we  have  welcomed  an 
understanding  with  Britain,  even  so  heartily  would  we  welcome 
an  understanding  with  Germany. 

No  other  nation  knows  the  German  character  as  do  we.  For 
more  than  half  a  century  German  immigrants  have  been  pour- 
ing into  America  until  we  number  them  by  millions.  We  have 
freely  shared  with  them  our  splendid  patrimony  and  they  have 
repaid  us  by  the  brightest  examples  of  the  old  German  loyalty. 
In  all  political  questions  their  honest  instincts  have  ever  led 
them  to  side  with  the  cause  of  reason  and  justice,  and  when  it 
became  necessary  to  cut  out  the  gangrene  of  slavery  with  the 
sword,  they  entered  the  Federal  army  by  thousands  and  through 
four  long  years  of  war  mingled  their  blood  with  ours  on  every 

(356) 


battle-field.  In  the  recent  war  with  Spain  they  offered,  in  the 
city  of  Chicago  alone,  a  regiment  of  German  Americans  to  serve 
for  the  war,  and  in  a  few  hours  among  German  American  busi- 
ness men  in  the  same  city  they  raised  sixteen  millions  of  marks 
to  present  a  ship  of  war  to  the  government.  If  therefore  it 
pleases  any  of  their  kindred  in  the  old  home,  through  lack  of 
knowledge,  or  by  force  of  ancient  prejudice,  to  sneer  at  Ameri- 
can character  and  achievement,  or  to  dwell  unduly  upon  defects 
which  we  are,  by  the  slow  process  of  public  enlightenment,  cor- 
recting, we  can  pass  it  gently  by  for  the  sake  of  these  true 
Brothers  of  the  Sword.  But  if,  in  the  course  of  human  events, 
the  Germanic  powers  should  be  brought  into  more  sympathetic 
relations  to  each  other,  it  would  be  to  America  an  occasion  of 
rejoicing,  not  simply  because,  through  our  invincible  forces  by 
land  and  sea,  we  could  stand  against  a  world  in  arms,  but 
chiefly  because,  since  we  of  Germanic  blood  have  learned,  above 
all  other  races,  to  combine  personal  freedom  with  the  suprem- 
acy of  law  and  legitimate  authority,  our  united  influence  would 
tend,  yet  more  surely,  to  diffuse  among  all  nations  the  blessings 
of  peace,  unity  and  concord. 

Translated  from  the  Deutsche  Warte,  Berlin,  January  4,  1899. 
By  Br.  N.  S.  Jenkins 

Here  I  may  mention  my  belief  that  the  German 
Government  made  an  attempt,  before  war  was  de- 
clared by  America,  to  purchase  from  Spain  the  Philip- 
pine Islands  and  that  this  attempt  was  frustrated  by 
the  outbreak  of  the  war.  I  knew  that  an  eminent  Ger- 
man diplomatist  of  my  acquaintance  was  sent  to 

(  357  ) 


Spain  and  I  believe  it  was  upon  this  mission.  All  the 
world  knows  that,  when  Dewey  sailed  into  Manila 
Bay  in  April,  1898,  he  found  Dietrich  there,  in  com- 
mand of  a  powerful  German  fleet,  and  the  outrageous- 
ly insolent  conduct  of  the  valiant  conquerour  of  Kiau- 
Chow  may  well  have  been  largely  the  result  of  disap- 
pointment; for  he,  if  my  surmise  is  correct,  must  have 
known  of  the  plans  of  his  Government,  and  he  would 
naturally  have  expected  to  be  made  Governor  of  the 
Islands  after  occupying  them.  Also  all  the  world 
knows  what  it  meant  when,  at  the  most  critical  mo- 
ment in  Manila  Bay,  the  commander  of  the  British 
squadron  ranged  his  flagship  by  the  side  of  the  Ameri- 
can flagship. 

I  had,  as  you  will  have  seen  by  what  has  gone  be- 
fore, not  changed  my  hope  and  desire  that  Germany 
might  be  brought  to  content  herself  with  the  peace- 
ful conquests  she  was  making  everywhere  to  her  own 
advantage  and  the  good  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  es- 
pecially since  the  German  people  were  rapidly  increas- 
ing in  wealth  and  general  prosperity,  and  many  of 
them  were  also  seeking  for  larger  liberty  at  home;  but 
the  outbreak  of  malignant  passions  occasioned  by  the 
Boer  War  caused  me  much  anxiety.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
whole  nation  had  gone  mad  with  rage  and  envy,  and 
when,  in  the  midst  of  the  war,  the  Reichstag  voted  its 
first  great  credit  for  building  a  large  fleet,  the  only 

( 358 ) 


consolation  was  found  in  the  delay  necessary  before  a 
sufficiently  well-trained  fleet  could  be  made  ready, 
delay  during  which  much  could  happen. 


1896    Chapter  Seventeen    1900 

GRACE  was  married  to  Cavalie  Courthose  Gow- 
Gregor  in  September,  1899,  and  departed  at  once 
for  India.  We  dreaded  her  being  exposed  to  the  trying 
dimate  of  Bombay,  but  the  business  of  her  husband 
was  there,  and  we  hoped  that  her  talent  for  having 
adventures  might  afford  her  some  compensation  in 
that  strange  land  for  the  tamer  experiences  of  her  own 
home.  Minor  adventures,  of  course,  she  had  in  plenty, 
but  the  only  one  I  now  recall  is  of  a  panther,  who  had 
been  skulking  about  the  bungalows  of  a  summer 
resort  where  Grace  was  staying  and  who,  on  the  first 
night  of  her  sojourn,  selected  her  bedroom  in  which  to 
slake  his  thirst.  Grace  heard  him  lapping  up  the  water 
from  her  washbowl,  but  concluded  that  it  was  better 
not  to  disturb  him  in  such  an  innocent  enjoyment, 
and  presently,  almost  as  silently  as  the  Arabs  of  the 
folding  tents,  he  stole  away. 

From  her  earliest  infancy,  the  unexpected  and  ex-  ' 
traordinary  was  always  happening  to  Grace  but,  as 
her  senses  were  amazingly  keen  and  her  mind  worked 
very  quickly  and  her  courage  never  failed,  she  in- 
stantly acted,  as  if  by  instinct,  in  the  best  way  pos- 
sible in  any  emergency.  Once  she  was  sitting  alone  in 
one  of  the  red  electric  tramcars  of  Dresden,  at  that 

(360) 


terminus  with  the  sharp  decline  by  the  river  which 
you  children  will  remember  well.  A  woman  with  a 
child  came  in  and  just  then  the  motorman  removed 
the  crank  from  one  end  and  was  walking  slowly  out- 
side the  car  to  place  it  in  position  at  the  opposite  end 
for  the  return  trip.  Suddenly  the  car  started  to  run 
down  the  steep  descent  just  as  another  car  was  coming 
at  full  speed  to  cross  the  line  at  right  angles.  The 
woman  screamed  and  the  clumsy  motorman  came 
helplessly  lumbering  after.  But  Grace  rushed  out  onto 
the  front  platform  and,  finding  no  crank,  grasped  the 
shaft  with  both  hands  and  turned  it  with  all  her 
strength  until  she  brought  the  car  to  a  standstill,  just 
in  time  to  prevent  a  collision.  She  did  not  mind  her 
strained  and  bruised  hands,  her  only  comment  was: 
"I've  spoiled  my  gloves."  Once  at  dead  of  night,  in 
London,  she  rushed  out  to  call  the  nearest  doctor,  as 
Cavalie  had  been  taken  violently  ill.  A  drunken  sailor 
caught  her,  but  she  struck  him  in  the  face,  flung  him 
aside  and  went  swiftly  and  safely  on  her  way.  Often 
when  I  came  to  dinner  after  an  exhausting  day's  work, 
too  tired  for  conversation,  I  have  asked  Grace  to  give 
an  account  of  the  adventures  she  had  encountered 
during  the  day,  and  never  without  eliciting  something 
which  soothed  my  spirit  and  banished  care. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1900,  came  a  message  from 
Cavalie  that  the  doctor  in  Bombay  ordered  Grace  to 

(361) 


return  at  once  to  Europe.  Knowing  her  condition,  we 
were  not  surprised  and  replied  that  they  were  both  to 
come  at  once,  hoping  that  Grace's  confinement  might 
take  place  at  Thorwald.  Within  three  days  they  broke 
up  their  estabhshment  and  sailed  for  Marseilles.  Your 
mother  went  on  to  meet  them  and  made  every  ar- 
rangement at  Paris  and  elsewhere  for  the  care  of 
Grace,  in  case  the  event  should  occur  en  route.  She 
wrote  Grace  at  quarantine  to  say  that  if  the  ship  were 
detained  and  she  needed  medical  assistance,  she  could 
communicate  with  a  certain  French  doctor  and  he 
would  go  out  to  see  her.  There  had,  however,  been 
cheering  telegrams  from  Port  Said  and  your  mother 
felt  no  anxiety.  At  last  the  great  liner  came  to  the 
wharf,  but  on  the  deck  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  Grace 
or  Cavalie.  However,  the  first  man  to  come  down  the 
gangway  was  the  French  doctor,  who  rushed  to  your 
mother,  saying:  "I  congratulate  you, Madame !  since 
quarter  of  an  hour  you  are  a  grandmother !" 

It  was  Saturday  and  the  greatest  holiday  in  the 
year  for  Marseilles.  Some  obliging  person  had  hurried 
the  trunk  in  which  Grace  had  the  clothes  for  the  baby 
into  the  custom-house,  that  it  might  be  passed  as 
quickly  as  possible.  Suddenly  the  doors  were  closed 
to  be  opened  again  only  on  Monday  morning.  No 
covered  ambulance  could  be  found,  but  finally  an 
open  stretcher  was  procured.  Grace  was  placed  in  the 

(362) 


stretcher,  two  bearers  took  it  up  and  Cavalie  walked 
by  Grace's  side,  while  the  doctor  and  her  mother, 
with  the  baby  wrapped  in  cotton  wool  and  handker- 
chiefs, followed  in  a  landau.  Marseilles  was  enjete  and 
the  streets  were  full  of  processions  and  brass  bands  to- 
gether with  fireworks,  bonfires,  accompanied  by  much 
cheering  and  hilarity.  Occasionally  some  people  would 
dance  about  the  group  with  the  stretcher,  taking  it  for 
a  part  of  the  celebration.  Upon  reaching  the  hotel, 
the  bearers  entered  first  and  deposited  their  burden 
at  the  foot  of  the  grand  staircase,  in  full  view  of  the 
assembled  hotel  guests,  who  were  taking  their  after- 
dinner  coffee  in  the  court.  When,  a  moment  later,  your 
mother  entered,  she  rushed  to  Grace,  fearing  to  find 
her  fainted,  or  perhaps  dead,  but  was  reassured  when 
Grace  smilingly  remarked:  "How  delightful  to  be  in  a 
place  where  all  the  people  are  white  !" 

Your  mother  wrote  me  that  she  had  expected  some- 
thing unusual  would  happen  to  Grace,  but  exactly  this 
she  had  not  anticipated.  Grace  was,  however,  as  usual 
in  emergencies,  wonderfully  equal  to  the  occasion  and 
did  not  mind  that  during  the  first  night  your  mother 
had  to  discharge  two  nurses  in  succession  for  incom- 
petency or  worse  and  only  with  the  third  attempt 
could  find  a  fairly  good  one.  Three  weeks  afterward 
they  reached  Paris  and  Grace  saw  the  great  exhibition 
comfortably. 


In  the  early  summer  of  1896  a  cablegram  came  tell- 
ing of  Leonard's  serious  illness  with  typhoid  fever.  He 
was  in  the  Presbyterian  Hospital  in  New  York  and 
was  having  the  best  care,  but  it  seemed  evident  that 
he  was  dangerously  ill.  I  sailed  in  great  distress  of 
mind,  but  upon  arriving  at  quarantine,  to  my  great 
rehef  I  received  a  message  that  he  was  better  and  out 
of  danger.  As  the  ship  approached  the  wharf,  I  recog- 
nized, first  of  all  my  friends,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Bow- 
den,  who  had  secured  the  most  prominent  position  in 
the  very  front  of  the  waiting  crowd  and  was  waving 
his  broad-brimmed  clerical  hat  in  greeting.  When  we 
came  within  earshot,  he  called  out  the  good  news  of 
Leonard's  improvement  and  I  landed  with  a  light 
heart. 

Mr.  Bowden  was  the  honoured  and  beloved  pastor  of 
the  Scotch  Presbyterian  church  at  Dresden.  His  con- 
gregation was  largely  composed  of  Americans  and  we 
had  made  up  a  purse  to  give  him  a  summer  holiday  in 
America,  wishing  him  to  become  acquainted  with  our 
country.  He  had  finished  his  visit  in  New  York  and 
was  about  leaving  for  the  West,  when  he  heard  Leon- 
ard was  ill  and  he  remained  and  mounted  guard  over 
him  until  I  should  arrive.  From  him  and  from  my 
other  friends  I  received  a  most  hearty  and  kindly  wel- 
come, and  as  soon  as  I  was  permitted,  I  visited  my 
dear  boy  at  the  hospital.  He  had  greatly  changed 

(364) 


through  his  illness  but  his  spirit  was  as  high  as  ever. 
His  fever  was  being  kept  down  by  cold  baths.  I  had 
seen  German  soldiers  being  treated  by  this  method 
and  heard  them,  despite  their  discipline,  crying  with 
the  shock  of  the  cold  water;  but  Leonard,  who  had 
inherited  my  unfortunate  circulation  which  made  him 
abnormally  sensitive  to  cold,  bore  the  shock  without  a 
whimper.  Upon  one  occasion,  when  his  strength  was 
at  very  low  ebb  and  the  cold  bath  was  ordered,  he  said 
to  his  medical  attendants,  some  of  whom  had  been 
fellow  students  with  him  at  Yale:  "All  right,  boys,  but 
you  must  all  sing!"  They  sang  and  he  joined  in  and 
sang  as  cheerily  as  his  chattering  jaws  and  trembling 
body  allowed. 

For  some  time  after  my  arrival  he  made  good  prog- 
ress and  then,  one  morning  upon  returning  from 
church,  where  I  had  gone  to  give  thanks  for  his  re- 
covery, I  found  that  he  had  a  serious  relapse.  He  was 
not  allowed  to  see  anyone  but  his  attendants  during 
the  trying  days  which  followed.  Mr.  Bowden  was  per- 
mitted to  come  in  for  a  few  minutes  every  day  and 
make  a  short  prayer.  Leonard  went  down  to  the  very 
gates  of  death  so  that  I  was  in  daily  and  hourly  fear  of 
a  fatal  result,  but  by  God's  mercy  the  crisis  was  safely 
passed  at  last  and  I  could  cable  your  mother,  by  the 
time  she  received  my  letter  telling  of  the  relapse,  that 
he  was  again  out  of  danger.  Other  relapses  occurred 

(365) 


afterwards  but  each  was  less  severe,  until,  in  Septem- 
ber, the  dear  boy  was  so  far  recovered  that  he  could 
venture  to  sail  for  Europe.  It  had  been  the  hottest 
summer  known  in  New  York  for  forty  years  and  a  trip 
to  Europe  and  a  period  of  rest  at  Thorwald  was  the 
one  thing  necessary  to  complete  recovery. 

My  stay  in  New  York  during  those  trying  months 
had  some  compensations.  I  learned  the  value  of  true 
friendship  and  gained  new  insight  into  the  kindness  of 
the  American  character.  I  stayed  all  that  time  at  the 
Lotos  Club.  There  were  few  members  remaining  in 
town  during  that  torrid  season,  but  some  men  came  in 
to  lunch  when  they  chanced  to  come  to  the  city.  It 
became  known  why  I  was  staying  there  and  the  men 
vied  with  each  other  in  showing  me  little  attentions 
and  gave  me  numberless  evidences  of  interest  and 
sympathy.  The  men  coming  from  their  country  places 
brought  flowers  for  the  sick  chamber  and  urged  me  to 
come  out  and  spend  my  spare  time  with  them;  even 
the  negro  servants  morning  and  night  asked  for  news 
of  the  patient.  Every  morning,  as  I  walked  to  the  hos- 
pital, where  I  was  due  at  nine  o'clock,  I  was  sure  to 
find  the  superintendent  or  a  nurse  or  some  other 
assistant  looking  out  of  a  window  to  watch  for  my 
coming  and  to  signal  me  afar  off^  if  the  news  was 
good. 

Excellent  as  the  Presbyterian  Hospital  was,  the 

(366) 


food  was  not  always  just  palatable  to  convalescent 
patients,  but  a  rule  against  friends  bringing  food  and 
delicacies  to  the  patients  was  still  necessary.  As  Leon- 
ard began  to  improve,  I  asked  permission  to  bring  him 
now  and  then  some  special  dish  he  fancied,  first  being 
assured  by  the  head  doctor  that  it  would  be  prudent 
or  advisable  for  him  to  have  it.  One  morning  as  I  came 
to  the  hospital  I  found  the  superintendent  standing  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs.  He  remarked  that  he  wanted  to 
show  me  some  fossils  in  the  stones  of  the  foundation 
of  the  hospital;  but  he  said,  so  soon  as  we  were  out  of 
observation,  that  he  could  trust  me  to  bring  only  edi- 
bles which  were  good  for  my  son  and  so  I  need  no 
longer  ask  for  especial  permission;  and  he  soon  forgot 
all  about  the  fossils  after  having  first  indicated  them 
to  me. 

Up  to  the  time  of  sailing  I  never  left  New  York,  ex- 
cept once  for  a  few  hours  to  inspect  an  electric  rail- 
way. The  system  of  country  electric  railways  was  far 
more  advanced  in  America  than  in  Europe  and  I  spent 
some  of  my  leisure  in  studying  the  subject,  thinking  it 
might  be  feasible  to  build  such  a  road  from  Dresden  to 
Leipzig.  I  was  impressed  with  the  financial  advan- 
tages, not  only  to  the  judicious  promoters  of  these 
trolley  lines,  but  also  to  the  land  and  people  in  the  ter- 
ritory served  by  them.  But  of  this  more  anon. 

It  was  a  happy  day  when  we  started  upon  our  voy- 

(367) 


age.  Leonard  was  taken  to  the  steamer  by  Dr.  Hart- 
well  and  some  of  his  other  friends,  in  the  hospital 
ambulance,  for  he  was  still  too  weak  to  be  conveyed 
in  an  ordinary  carriage.  But  the  fresh  air  and  motion 
did  him  good  and  they  soon  made  a  great  lark  of  it, 
for  they  were  in  high  spirits  at  his  recovery  and  I  fear 
they  somewhat  abused  their  right  of  way  and  unnec- 
essarily excited  the  sympathy  of  the  public  by  the  ex- 
pression of  consternation  which  they  managed  to  give 
to  their  ingenuous  countenances  and  which  was  in 
deep  contrast  to  their  inward  hilarity.  We  had  two 
cabins  adjoining  each  other  on  the  promenade  deck, 
and  in  a  short  time  after  sailing  Leonard  was  able  to 
walk  with  but  little  assistance  to  his  deck  chair. 

Our  dear  Mr.  Bowden  had  arranged  to  sail  with  us 
and  added  greatly  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  voyage.  He 
was  very  entertaining  in  his  accounts  of  experience  in 
America.  There  were  former  members  of  his  Dresden 
chaplaincy — he  was  of  the  Established  Church  of 
Scotland  and  received  a  stipend  from  the  funds  for 
foreign  service — all  of  whom  were  desirous  of  enter- 
taining him.  Among  many  of  them  wine  was  never 
served,  and  this  seemed  all  right  to  him,  since  he  knew 
American  prejudices  regarding  the  general  use  of  al- 
coholic drinks,  but  he  shyly  confessed  to  us  that  he 
had  with  difficulty  learned  to  drink  ice  water,  but  had 
persevered  until  his  **stomach  felt  like  a  skating  rink." 

( 368 ) 


Just  before  he  sailed,  however,  a  saintly  American 
woman  of  truly  sympathetic  nature  gave  him  a  bottle 
of  very  rare  old  rye  whiskey,  for  his  stomach's  sake 
and  other  infirmities  no  doubt,  and  every  day  at 
luncheon  and  dinner  on  the  voyage  he  reverently 
mixed  a  little  of  it  with  his  ice  water,  in  grateful  mem- 
ory of  her  kind  solicitude. 

Mr.  Bowden  had  been  pastor  of  one  of  the  large 
churches  in  Glasgow,  and  was  greatly  esteemed  for  his 
devotion  to  his  work  and  much  admired  for  his  pulpit 
services.  When  he  broke  down  from  overwork,  he  was 
sent  to  Dresden  as  an  easier  post.  From  the  very  be- 
ginning he  won  the  hearts  of  those  who  preferred  a 
non-liturgical  service,  among  whom  he  did  most  ac- 
ceptable work,  and  he  was  greatly  respected  by  the  en- 
tire community.  He  was  also  a  delightful  after-dinner 
speaker  and  we  were  always  glad  when  we  could  have 
him  at  the  occasional  dinners  of  the  Anglo-American 
Club  and  elsewhere. 

One  of  those  occasions  was  a  visit  from  Mark  Twain 
of  blessed  memory.  The  Presbyterian  Church  was  in 
great  need  of  a  sum  of  money  and  it  was  suggested  to 
me  by  the  local  committee  of  the  church  to  invite  Mr. 
Clemens  to  deliver  a  lecture  for  the  benefit  of  the 
church  funds.  He  was  then  staying  in  Berlin  and  I 
knew  he  was  intimate  with  my  friend,  William  Walter 
Phelps,  the  then  American  Minister  to  Germany. 

(369) 


I  knew  Mr.  Phelps  first  when  he  was  the  American 
Minister  to  Austria-Hungary,  his  first  diplomatic  post. 
He  was  an  accomplished  man  of  the  world  with 
charming  manners  and  a  generous  heart  and  he  imme- 
diately received  a  cordial  welcome  in  Vienna  society. 
He  once  came  to  see  me  in  Dresden,  when  his  cousin, 
Charles  Phelps,  was  there  living  near  us  and  intimate 
in  our  house,  as  you  will  remember.  We  had  them  both 
to  dine  at  the  Victoria  Hotel  on  that  occasion,  as  our 
domestic  establishment  was  broken  up  just  then  for 
some  forgotten  reason.  I  had  never  seen  Mr.  Phelps  in 
such  high  spirits.  He  was  overflowing  with  good  hu- 
mour, which  his  cousin,  your  mother  and  I  attributed 
to  improved  health,  of  which,  however,  there  was  not 
much  other  evidence.  It  was  only  long  afterwards  that 
I  learned  that  just  before  leaving  Vienna  he  had  made 
one  of  the  noblest  of  his  many  benefactions.  There  had 
been  a  scandalous  bank  failure  through  which  many 
poor  people  had  lost  their  savings.  Phelps  knew  how 
they  had  been  swindled,  since  the  affair  occurred  in 
his  own  town,  and  so  he  sent  to  a  friend  a  blank  check, 
directing  him  to  see  that  those  poor  people  were  paid 
in  full  and  to  keep  the  matter  secret.  No  wonder  he 
was  light  of  heart  at  the  thought  that  by  this  act  these 
deluded  and  suffering  people  might  be  able  to  regain 
their  lost  faith  in  humanity. 

So,  as  I  did  not  know  Mr.  Clemens  personally,  I 

(  370  ) 


wrote  to  Mr.  Phelps  and  asked  him  to  present  the 
matter  to  his  friend.  He  sent  me  Mr.  Clemens's  reply: 

Kornerstr.  7,  December  9, 1891 
Dear  Mr.  Phelps: 

Yes,  I  want  to  go  there  and  read  some  rot  out  of  my  books, 
but  if  I  have  to  go  alone  I  shall  have  to  charge  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen hundred  thousand  dollars  or  such  a  matter.  Now  Mrs. 
Clemens  can't  go,  because  she  isn't  well  enough,  but  if  you'll  go 
with  me,  name  the  day  and  I'll  read  the  best  I  know  how  and 
won't  accept  a  cent — now  that  shows  how  I  value  your  company. 
Let  me  read  in  the  day  or  in  the  night,  just  as  they  shall  pre- 
fer. It  is  all  one  to  me,  in  a  country  where  you've  got  to  read  by 
candle-light  anyway. 

Yours  sincerely 

(signed)     S.  L.  Clemens 

Cheerful,  capable,  energetic  Mr.  James  Wood, 
whom  you  children  will  remember  with  affection  and 
delight,  was  the  working  man  on  the  church  commit- 
tee. He  attended  to  everything.  The  largest  hall  in 
Dresden  was  engaged,  appropriate  notices  were  in- 
serted in  all  the  newspapers  and  arrangements  cover- 
ing the  three  days'  stay  of  the  party  in  Dresden  were 
completed.  The  evening  of  the  first  day,  Friday,  was 
given  the  lecture,  at  which  Mr.  Wood  most  acceptably 
acted  as  chairman,  and  it  was  followed  by  a  reception 
at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Palmer,  the  American  consul. 
Saturday  there  was  a  dinner  at  the  Club.  Sunday  the 
whole  party  went  to  hear  Mr.  Bowden  preach  and 

(  371  ) 


that  same  evening  they  dined  with  us.  Mr.  Phelps  and 
nearly  the  whole  staff  of  the  Legation  came  with 
Mark  Twain  and  stayed  through  everything. 

I  think  every  member  of  the  Anglo-American  col- 
ony came  to  the  lecture,  but  there  were  also  many 
Germans,  among  whom  were  some  who  could  not 
understand  English,  but  who  came  to  see  such  a  fa- 
mous man  of  letters.  Mark  was  delicious.  He  told  me 
afterwards  it  was  the  most  elegant  audience  he  had 
ever  addressed;  and  indeed  it  was  a  brilliant  assem- 
bly, for  Americans  and  British  were  all  in  full  dress, 
not  only  in  honour  of  the  lecturer,  but  in  preparation 
for  the  reception  afterwards.  But  he  knew  there  were 
Germans  present  and  he  took  a  sly  delight  in  poking 
a  bit  of  fun  at  some  German  customs.  He  told  a  de- 
lightful story  of  accepting  a  challenge  to  fight  a  duel 
in  the  days  of  his  youth  and  how  he  frightened  his 
challenger  into  declining  the  conditions  by  a  supposed 
revelation  of  his  being  a  dead  shot,  and  solemnly  con- 
cluded by  saying:  "Duelling  is  all  wrong.  It  is  a  crime. 
If  any  young  man  present  should  ever  be  challenged 
to  fight  a  duel  I  beg  him  not  to  accept.  No,  go  to  your 
enemy,  take  him  gently  by  the  hand,  lead  him  into  a 
secluded  place  and — kill  him !  "The  next  day  we  heard 
that  some  of  the  German  audience  had  been  greatly 
shocked  to  hear  the  lecturer  advocate  assassination. 

But  it  was  at  the  Club  dinner  that  we  had  him  at 

(  372  ) 


his  best.  General  Melville,  a  British  officer  who  had 
served  with  distinction  in  India  and  who  was  the 
president  of  the  Club,  presided  with  much  dignity, 
being  deliciously  oblivious  of  the  spirit  of  the  occasion. 
The  dinner  was  a  triumph  of  good  cooking  and  rare 
wines,  and  speeches  preceding  the  event  of  the  even- 
ing were  designedly  short.  The  president,  Mr.  Phelps, 
Mr.  Bowden  and  myself  were  the  speakers  and  Mark 
Twain  followed  immediately  after  my  brief  remarks. 
I  have  heard  many  good  after-dinner  speeches,  but  if 
the  chief  art  of  the  speaker  is  to  give  pleasure,  surely 
I  have  never  heard  the  equal  of  Clemens.  He  spoke 
with  natural  grace  in  an  excellent,  clear  voice  and  led 
up  to  his  points  with  such  skill  and  with  never  a  word 
too  much  that  he  fascinated  his  hearers  by  his  art  as 
much  as  he  cheered  them  by  his  delightful  humour. 

On  Sunday  I  took  Mr.  Clemens  to  church.  He  was, 
I  now  suspect,  beginning  to  lose  his  religious  faith  and 
was  rather  shy  of  going  but,  like  the  fine  gentleman 
he  was,  felt  he  should  go  in  compliment  to  the  pastor 
and  the  congregation  who  had  invited  him  and  had  re- 
ceived him  so  hospitably.  It  was  near  the  Christmas- 
tide  and  the  sermon  was  on  the  subject  of  the  fullness 
of  the  time  in  which  Christ  came  to  the  world.  The 
oppression,  the  corruption  and  the  cruelty  of  the 
Roman  conquests  and  the  consequent  misery  under 
which  the  world  was  hopelessly  suffering  was  God's 

(  373  ) 


opportunity.  Mr.  Clemens  listened  attentively  to  the 
eloquent  preacher  and,  as  I  walked  back  with  him  to 
his  hotel,  he  conversed  seriously  with  me  about  the 
problems  of  life  in  a  tone  of  deep  sadness.  He  seemed 
to  feel  the  burden  of  injustice  and  lack  of  opportunity 
under  which  the  great  majority  of  mankind  suffered 
after  all  these  centuries  of  the  Christian  era  and  to  be 
oblivious  of  the  signs  of  betterment.  I  remember  he 
was  especially  bitter  against  the  survival  of  remnants 
of  feudahsm  in  Germany,  such  as  hereditary  rule  and 
the  holding  of  great  landed  estates  by  entail,  and  when 
I  endeavoured  to  explain  that  all  these  conditions  con- 
tained within  themselves  the  seeds  of  dissolution  and 
must  eventually  pass  away  through  the  advance  of 
social  and  political  enlightenment,  he  answered,  with 
emphasis:  **  Still,  these  things  are  not  right."  I  wonder 
now  if  he  then  saw,  as  certainly  I  did  not,  that  the 
passing  of  the  old  order  could  only  come  by  violence 
such  as  now  convulses  all  the  world. 

This  Sunday  evening  we  had  Mark  Twain  and 
Fhelps  and  all  the  members  of  the  staff,  with  dear  Mr. 
Wood,  to  dinner.  I  had  asked  Mr.  Clemens  if  there 
was  any  one  in  Dresden  whom  he  would  like  to  meet. 
He  answered:  "Only  Paul  Lindau."  It  seems  he  was 
upon  friendly  terms  with  the  elder  brother  of  Lindau, 
a  man  I  also  knew  and  admired.  He  was  at  once  an 
able  financier  and  diplomatist  and,  when  I  knew  him, 

(  374  ) 


was  the  German  member  of  the  International  Egyp- 
tian Debt  Commission.  He  spoke  beautiful  English 
and  possessed  a  broad  and  intelligent  knowledge  of 
the  outside  world,  such  as  was  but  rarely  found  among 
Germans.  Paul  being  a  noted  author  and  playwright, 
Mark  Twain  would  naturally  have  expected  him  to 
possess  the  attractive  qualities  of  his  brother.  He  was 
living  at  Strehlen,  a  suburb  of  Dresden,  and  I  went  at 
once  to  call  upon  him  to  excuse  the  suddenness  and  in- 
formality of  the  invitation  and  to  explain  the  reason. 
He  accepted  with  alacrity  and  we  placed  him  at  table 
next  to  Mark  Twain.  But  in  the  interval  before  dinner 
Mr.  Clemens  had  taken  his  measure  and  found  him 
spoiled  by  a  really  stupendous  egotism.  He  seemed  in- 
capable of  thought  or  conversation  upon  any  other 
subject  than  himself,  and  Mark  Twain  took  much 
pleasure  in  slyly  playing  upon  the  poor  man's  weak- 
ness, and  in  making  himself  incomprehensible  to  him. 
At  table,  among  various  experiences,  he  spoke  graphi- 
cally of  a  tedious  experience  in  quarantine  relieved 
only  when  a  shipload  of  cholera  patients  arrived,  many 
of  them  being  in  a  moribund  condition;  and  when  he 
concluded  his  dismal  tale  by  saying:  "Our  only  amuse- 
ment was  attending  funerals,"  he  kept  a  corner  of  his 
right  eye  upon  the  horrified  countenance  of  Lindau. 

By  the  time  Leonard  was  in  his  mother's  arms  again, 
he  had  partially  regained  his  strength,  but  many 

(  375  ) 


weeks  passed  before  he  was  able  to  return  to  America. 
At  dinner  on  the  day  of  our  arrival  at  Thorwald  your 
mother  wore  a  faded,  but  still  perfecdy  formed  rose 
which  I  had  found  on  the  terrace  as  I  was  departing 
and  sent  back  to  her  with  the  message :  "the  most  per- 
fect flower  to  the  most  perfect  woman."  She  had  kept 
it  so  carefully  during  all  that  anxious  time  that  not 
one  petal  had  fallen  and  its  symmetry  was  perfectly 
preserved. 

I  had  bought  in  America  a  small  cider  mill.  It  was  a 
good  year  for  fruit  and  Leonard  helped  to  gather  the 
apples  from  the  orchard  and  to  make  them  into  cider. 
We  were  not  experts,  but  we  had  great  fun  over  the 
work  and  I  still  maintain  that  it  was  the  best  cider 
ever  made.  Even  after  the  lapse  of  twenty-one  years, 
there  are  a  few  bottles  left  and  the  cider  is  still 
drinkable. 

When  Leonard  became  strong  enough  to  bear  the 
long  carriage  drive,  your  mother  and  I  took  him  with 
us  for  a  drive  to  Leipzig,  going  by  one  route  and  re- 
turning by  another.  Our  object  was  to  observe  the 
condition  of  the  two  routes  and  compare  their  advan- 
tages. Both  the  roads  were  excellently  built  and  there 
were  no  serious  obstacles  to  building  a  tramway  over 
them;  on  the  contrary,  for  the  most  part,  the  condi- 
tions were  ideal.  The  country  through  which  the  line 
would  run  was  rich  and  populous.  There  were  many 

(376) 


large  and  small  farms  as  well  as  numerous  towns  and 
villages  which  would  profit  from  such  an  enterprise 
had  it  been  carried  through,  for  it  would  certainly 
have  largely  increased  the  value  of  property  all  the 
way  and  have  been  an  advantage  to  the  people  on  the 
route,  as  well  as  to  the  cities  of  Dresden  and  Leipzig, 
through  providing  a  cheap  and  easy  method  of  con- 
veying passengers  and  goods  to  and  fro. 

After  some  consideration  of  the  project,  I  asked  the 
advice  of  my  friend  Fiirstenberg,  who  was  then  by  far 
the  most  enterprising  and  capable  man  of  business  I 
knew.  He  was  greatly  taken  with  the  idea  and  began 
at  once,  at  my  request,  to  interest  his  lawyer  and  a 
few  business  men  in  our  plan,  under  a  pledge  of  se- 
crecy. They  were  soon  all  fire  and  flame  for  the  scheme 
and  a  meeting  was  arranged  to  discuss  the  matter.  I 
told  the  men  how  well  these  electric  roads  were  work- 
ing and  how  valuable  such  franchises  were  in  America, 
and  how,  to  all  appearance,  such  an  enterprise  would 
be  even  more  successful  in  Germany  than  elsewhere. 
I  had  previously  told  Fiirstenberg  that  if  we  could  get 
a  concession  to  build  the  road,  I  could  get  all  the  capi- 
tal necessary  for  the  purpose  in  America,  but  that 
perhaps  we  should  do  better  to  make  it  a  German,  or 
a  combined  German  and  American  enterprise. 

It  was  finally  concluded  to  go  ahead  and  form  a 
company  and  to  apply  to  the  Saxon  Government  for  a 

(  377  ) 


concession,  but,  at  the  last  moment,  before  the  plan 
was  completed,  one  of  the  men  who  was  a  friend  of  the 
president  of  the  Saxon  railroad  system,  said  he  should 
first  like  to  speak  to  his  friend  and  sound  him  upon  the 
subject.  Of  this  I  did  not  approve,  since  it  was  certain 
he  would  oppose  the  project  and  it  would  be  better 
for  us  to  go  ahead  and  make  our  preparations  to  apply 
for  the  concession  without  beforehand  exciting  un- 
necessary opposition.  At  a  subsequent  meeting,  how- 
ever, this  man  reported  that  he  had  consulted  his 
friend,  who  admitted  that  it  was  an  attractive  propo- 
sition, but  that  it  would  be  his  duty  to  oppose  it.  The 
Government  road  had  a  monopoly  of  the  traffic  be- 
tween the  two  cities  and"  he  would  not  be  a  party  to 
impair  the  value  of  this  monopoly. 

The  effect  of  this  announcement  was  astounding. 
Notwithstanding  that  it  was  tempered  by  the  presi- 
dent saying  that  he  was  only  one  member  of  the  Gov- 
ernment and  the  other  members  might  overrule  him, 
the  little  band  of  promoters  threw  up  the  sponge  at 
once.  It  would  be  madness  to  proceed  with  a  project 
which  was  opposed  by  a  Government  Official!  They 
reminded  me  of  Mark  Twain's  desperado,  of  whom 
"his  neighbours  were  more  afraid  than  they  were  of 
the  Almighty." 

Long  afterward  when  the  project  was  again  agi- 
tated, the  Government  accepted  it  "in  principle"  after 

( 378 ) 


much  public  discussion,  but  nothing  further  has  been 
done  in  the  matter  to  this  day,  more  than  twenty 
years  from  that  time. 


I904     Chapter  Eighteen     1907 

IN  1904  your  mother  went  with  me  to  Madrid,  where 
I  was  to  attend  the  International  Medical  Congress. 
It  was  our  first  visit  to  Spain  and  a  memorable  one. 
The  war  with  America,  which  had  cost  Spain  the  last 
of  her  distant  colonies,  had  been  over  for  six  years. 
The  Government  was  desirous,  under  the  promising 
reign  of  the  young  King,  who  was  still,  however, 
largely  subject  to  the  influence  of  his  gifted  mother, 
of  showing  that  Spain  was  resuming  her  position 
among  European  powers,  especially  in  the  arts  of 
peace.  Therefore  at  the  last  International  Medical 
Congress,  at  BerHn  in  1899,  the  Congress  was  invited 
to  come  to  Madrid  in  1904. 

It  was  a  delightful  journey  from  Vienna,  by  way  of 
the  Riviera  to  Barcelona  and  thence  to  Madrid  in  the 
boyhood  of  the  year.  That  season  at  Vienna  I  saw 
rather  more  than  usual  of  my  various  imperial  pa- 
tients and  was  in  the  proper  humour  to  appreciate  a 
journey  to  Spain,  whose  King  was  reported  to  have  a 
deformity  of  the  jaws,  which  had  been  so  long  heredi- 
tary in  the  Hapsburg  family  as  to  be  regarded  almost 
as  a  distinction.  I  cannot  remember  to  have  seen  it  in 
any  female  member  of  the  family,  but  it  was  not  un- 
common among  the  males,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  a 

(380) 


direct  inheritance  from  their  Spanish  blood.  I  was 
confirmed  in  this  belief  upon  seeing  many  of  the  royal 
portraits  in  Madrid,  where  this  protruding  lower  jaw 
is  shown  to  be  characteristic  of  the  royal  house 
through  many  centuries. 

The  romantic  history  of  Spain,  which  had  been  a 
favourite  subject  with  American  historians  and  the 
groundwork  of  many  lighter  works  of  other  American 
authors,  had  deeply  interested  my  generation  and  had 
excited  my  own  imagination  from  my  earliest  recol- 
lection. Even  now,  in  my  old  age,  I  love  to  plan  a  real 
trip  to  Spain  with  your  mother  "when  the  war  is 
over."  Just  a  motor  trip  from  Gibraltar  to  Paris.  Ah, 
me!  If  we  could  not  dream  a  bit  now  and  then  in  these 
terrible  days,  we  could  scarcely  bear  our  burden. 

But  it  was  a  delightful  journey  and,  of  all  the  Con- 
gresses I  have  attended,  this  was  by  far  the  most  en- 
joyable. There  were,  if  my  memory  is  not  at  fault, 
some  seven  thousand  doctors  present,  from  all  parts 
of  the  world.  Our  section,  that  of  Stomatology,  was 
brilliantly  represented.  The  Spanish  colleagues,  some 
of  them  wore  cloaks  like  Roman  togas,  were  untir- 
ingly attentive  and  hospitable.  They  acted  under  the 
presidency  of  one  of  my  most  valued  friends.  Dr. 
Aguilar,  Dean  of  the  University  Dental  Institute  of 
Madrid,  a  most  accomplished  man  and  a  great  favour- 
ite at  the  Spanish  court.  One  of  the  entertainments 

(381  ) 


which  the  local  committee  had  planned  for  our  section 
was  in  a  theatre,  where  the  whole  floor  was  made  level 
with  the  stage.  The  Queen  Dowager  asked  Aguilar 
how  he  purposed  decorating  the  place,  and  before  he 
could  answer  she  told  him  that  the  boxes  and  galleries 
ought  to  be  screened,  so  that  his  guests  would  have 
the  illusion  of  being  in  a  single  great  room  like  a  tem- 
ple. To  this  end  she  offered  the  loan  of  the  priceless 
royal  collection  of  tapestries,  the  largest  and  most 
famous  in  the  world.  The  result  was  superb.  It  may  be 
that  never  before  were  so  many  of  these  beautiful  tap- 
estries placed  together  over  so  large  a  surface  or  ad- 
mired at  one  time  by  representatives  of  such  a  number 
of  nationalities,  for  dentists  were  present  from  all 
parts  of  the  world. 

There  were  many  court  ceremonies  in  honour  of  the 
Congress.  Upon  one  of  them  I  had  occasion  to  admire 
the  Queen  Dowager's  possession  of  the  proverbial 
"royal  memory."  Many  members  of  the  Congress 
were  invited  to  a  reception  at  the  palace.  It  was  de- 
signed to  have  them  assemble  in  rooms  according  to 
their  nationality,  but  of  this  I  was  not  aware  and, 
when  asked  where  I  practised,  and  having  answered 
Dresden,  I  was  ushered  into  an  immense  salon  where 
I  found  myself  among  a  great  assemblage  of  German 
physicians.  It  was  too  late  for  me  to  escape  and  find 
where  the  English-speaking  members  were  congre- 

(382  ) 


gated,  for  the  King  had  already  begun  making  his 
tour.  He  made  a  gallant  figure,  clad  in  a  brilliant  uni- 
form with  decorations  and  wearing  a  slender  gold- 
hilted  sword  and  golden  spurs.  In  colour  and  bearing  he 
reminded  me  of  a  high-bred  fighting  cock,  but  he 
showed  no  trace  of  arrogance,  swagger  or  self-con- 
sciousness. His  manner  when  speaking  to  the  men 
who  were  presented  to  him  implied  respect  for  their 
learning  mingled  with  an  expression  of  graceful  and 
vivacious  interest  in  their  achievements  which  was 
most  winning.  It  furnished  a  delightful  example  of  the 
temperamental  contrast  between  the  Latin  and  Teu- 
tonic race  and  culture. 

A  broad  space  was  kept  at  the  long  side  of  the  great 
salon  up  which  the  King  passed,  pausing  at  intervals 
to  speak  to  the  selected  men  whom  the  German  Am- 
bassador presented  and,  at  some  distance,  followed 
the  Queen  Mother,  to  whom  separate  presentations 
were  made.  Watching  my  opportunity,  I  introduced 
myself  to  the  Ambassador,  told  him  of  my  error  and, 
having  been  previously  informed  by  Aguilar,  said  that 
the  Queen  had  commanded  that  I  should  be  presented 
to  her,  which  he  did  not  question,  since  I  was  wearing 
the  order  King  Albert  had  given  me,  and  I  was  soon 
presented.  Instantly  the  Queen  remembered,  in  spite 
of  her  expectation  of  finding  me  among  the  Americans 
and  British,  and,  turning  from  German,  she  addressed 

(383  ) 


me  in  English,  saying  she  knew  about  my  career  and 
reputation,  especially  in  Germany  and  Austria,  and 
that  she  wanted  to  thank  me  personally,  because  my 
methods  of  practice  had  been  employed  by  Dr.  Aguilar 
and  her  children  had  thus  been  saved  from  disfigure- 
ment of  the  teeth  through  gold  fillings. 

It  was  announced  that  upon  a  certain  morning 
there  would  be  a  gala  guard-mounting  at  the  royal 
palace  in  honour  of  the  members  of  the  Congress.  At 
the  appointed  time  there  was  a  large  gathering  in  the 
great  court  and,  as  in  Spain  and  elsewhere  some  delay 
in  a  public  function  is  often  unavoidable,  the  men  di- 
vided themselves  into  national  groups,  often  headed 
and  herded  by  the  official  representatives  of  their  va- 
rious governments.  This  furnished  a  most  interesting 
feature,  since,  at  a  glance,  one  could  perceive  national 
characteristics  revealed  in  the  persons  and  manners  of 
those  representative  men.  Among  all  the  groups  the 
Swedes  were  conspicuous  by  reason  of  their  stature 
and  noble  bearing,  so  that  one  might  have  said:  "If 
European  civilization  is  looking  for  supermen  and 
really  cannot  do  without  them,  first  try  the  Swedes." 
The  world  had  already  been  reading  the  vapourings 
of  modern  pan-German  philosophers  and  scoffing  at 
their  madness,  fancying  that  such  amazing  folly  could 
be  trusted  to  work  its  own  cure.  It  is  to  the  credit,  al- 
though to  the  bitter  sorrow  of  the  world,  that  it  could 

(384) 


not  imagine  this  fantastic  sowing  could  actually  re- 
sult in  so  terrible  a  harvest. 

The  real  pageant,  however,  was  highly  spectacular. 
The  palace  guard  was  clad  in  mediaeval  costume  and 
carried  halberds,  in  striking  contrast  to  the  gala  uni- 
form and  arms  of  the  real  soldiers,  with  their  modern 
"pomp  and  pride  and  circumstance  of  war,"  accom- 
panied by  the  waving  of  historic  banners  and  the  clash 
of  splendid  military  music. 

When  the  parade  was  over,  the  contrast  was  still 
more  striking.  Quietly  and  almost  stealthily  the 
guards  passed  into  the  dark  corridors  of  the  palace, 
while  the  soldiers  marched  to  their  quarters  through 
the  joyous  sunshine  of  the  early  spring,  as  typical  of 
the  gloomy  past  of  Spain  and  of  her  hopeful  future. 

There  was  an  excursion  which  was  arranged  for  our 
section,  from  Madrid  to  Toledo,  and  nearly  all  the 
men,  with  a  goodly  number  of  ladies,  made  up  the 
party.  The  day  was  perfect  for  the  purpose,  the  train 
was  punctual  and  the  party  got  away  promptly, 
under  the  admirable  management  of  the  Spanish  col- 
leagues, and  was  carried  through  delightful  scenery 
to  the  famous  old  Spanish  city. 

Many  students  and  lovers  of  Spain  have  remarked 
upon  the  spirit  of  melancholy  which  seems  to  be  tem- 
peramental to  the  race  and  have  been  puzzled  to  ac- 
count for  it.  It  is  said  to  characterize  Spanish  litera- 

(385) 


ture  in  all  ages.  It  existed  before  and  after  the  Moorish 
invasion  and,  therefore,  the  Inquisition  could  not 
have  caused,  although  it  may  have  deepened  it. 
Philip  II,  although  master  of  so  great  a  portion  of  the 
world,  furnished  a  striking  example  of  the  national 
melancholia  and  he  left  the  Escorial  as  a  monument  to 
its  depressing  influence.  We  had  found  this  spirit  ob- 
scuring the  beauty  of  Spanish  cathedrals,  but  such  in- 
tensity of  gloom  as  we  found  within  the  great  cathe- 
dral of  Toledo  suggested  the  very  essence  of  despair. 
There  was  a  time  when  I  had  a  dilettante  interest  in 
mental  diseases  and  was  impressed  by  the  great  prev- 
alence of  insanity  among  hard-headed,  practical, 
American  farmer  families,  which  was  especially  notice- 
able among  the  descendants  of  the  early  settlers  of  the 
western  prairies.  In  the  seventies  and  eighties  of  the 
last  century,  in  trips  to  the  South  and  West,  I  was 
astonished  to  find  what  extensive  provision  had  to  be 
made  for  the  care  of  the  insane  and  was  assured  that  it 
was  the  unavoidable  result  of  monotony  of  life.  To  be 
isolated  from  companionship  by  great  distances;  to 
feel  cooped  in  beneath  the  oppressive  dome  of  the  sky 
with  nothing  to  break  the  margin  of  the  horizon;  to 
have  no  leisure  from  relentless  toil  in  which  to  keep  in 
touch  with  the  thoughts  of  men  and  not  to  recognize 
"the  great  wave  which  sweeps  around  the  world";  these 
were  the  conditions  to  breed  insanity  in  all  its  many 

(386) 


manifestations.  These  conditions  and  the  resulting 
undue  prevalence  of  insanity  I  found  to  exist  also  on 
the  Russian  Steppe.  Statistics  show  that  in  America 
the  introduction  of  the  tramway  and  the  telephone 
and  the  resulting  improvement  of  social  conditions 
and  of  community  interests  have  greatly  reduced  the 
number  of  mental  diseases. 

I  thought  of  this  in  Spain,  where  I  was  surprised  to 
find,  even  under  a  liberal  government  and  a  system  of 
general  military  service,  that  ignorance  of  each  other 
and  local  prejudice  still  prevailed  to  such  an  extent 
that  inhabitants,  even  of  neighbouring  provinces,  were 
out  of  sympathetic  touch.  I  concluded  that  this  must 
be  largely  due  to  the  topography  of  the  country.  Spain 
is  a  mountainous  land.  There  are  many  desert  regions. 
Communication  has  always  been  difficult,  and  is  far 
from  complete  even  in  our  day.  For  two  thousand 
years  Spanish  provinces  have  lived  in  a  condition  of 
isolation,  the  monotony  of  which  may  well  have  left 
an  ineradicable  impression  upon  the  national  charac- 
ter, resulting  not  in  mental  darkness,  but  in  tempera- 
mental melancholy. 

These  were  not  our  only  reflections  on  the  delightful 
tour  to  Toledo.  There  was  gloom,  but  romantic  gloom, 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  ancient  city  and  joy  and  hope 
in  all  our  hearts  that  stately  manners  and  delicate  yet 
most  hearty  hospitality  still  survived  in  modern  Spain 

(387) 


reminiscent  of  her  chivalric  past.  We  were  especially 
touched  that  the  foes  of  six  years  past  were  now  re- 
ceived as  valued  friends. 

In  Mexico  we  had  learned  that  a  Spanish  landlord 
regarded  his  guests  as  friends  paying  him  a  visit  and 
that  the  payments  must  be  considered  as  gifts.  We 
could  not  find  quarters  at  a  hotel  in  Madrid  and  were 
obliged  to  take  rooms  at  a  pension,  ordered  long  be- 
fore our  arrival.  We  found  it  most  comfortable  and, 
besides  the  company  of  some  friends,  we  enjoyed  that 
of  our  host.  He  was  so  amiable  that,  upon  the  evening 
of  our  departure,  he  insisted  upon  opening  a  bottle  of 
champagne  to  drink  to  our  prosperous  journey  and 
speedy  return,  assuring  us  that  there  was  plenty  of 
time;  but  we  arrived  at  the  station  just  in  season  to 
see  our  train  depart. 

That  afternoon  there  had  been  a  great  garden  party 
at  the  palace,  given  by  the  Royalties  to  the  members 
of  the  Congress,  and  we  had  returned  in  abundant 
season  for  departure  from  any  country  less  hospitable 
than  Spain;  we  were  belated,  but  not  solitary.  There 
were  many  other  disappointed  ones  at  the  station  and 
there  was  much  discussion  as  to  which  of  the  following 
trains  would  best  serve  our  purpose.  Before  leaving 
Dresden,  I  had  engaged  a  compartment  upon  this 
very  train.  I  saw  our  dear  Miller,  who  just  managed 
to  get  aboard.  Forberg  of  Stockholm  was  equally  for- 

(388  ) 


tunate  but,  not  having  had  time  to  get  his  trunks 
checked,  he  threw  his  keys  to  us  and  asked  us  to  see 
them  over  the  French  frontier.  At  last  we  found  that 
by  taking  the  next  train  and  riding  all  night  we  could 
reach  Biarritz  late  the  next  afternoon  and  possibly  get 
a  night  train  with  sleeping  compartments  to  Paris.  We 
should  then  arrive  in  time  to  see  the  formal  entrance 
of  King  Edward  VII,  for  he  was  coming  in  state  on 
that  very  day  to  visit  the  city  and  people  whom  he 
knew  and  loved  so  well  when  he  was  Prince  of  Wales. 
It  was  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  this  pageant  that  I 
had  engaged  our  compartment  from  Madrid  and  we 
had  accepted  an  invitation  from  Dr.  Hirschfeld  to 
view  the  procession  from  his  apartment  on  the  Champs 
Elysees.  So  we  crowded  into  an  overfilled  train  with 
the  Youngs  of  Leipzig,  where  we  encountered  some 
rather  blackguard  Englishmen,  who,  because  they 
lived  in  Spain,  thought  they  were  justified  in  smoking 
in  a  compartment  in  which  American  women  were 
travelling.  Young  was  for  throwing  them  out  of  the 
window  but,  after  expressing  our  opinion  of  their  man- 
ners in  unmistakable  terms,  finally  prudence  prevailed 
and  we  went  on  until  the  junction  for  Portugal  was 
reached,  where  the  Youngs  left  us.  Mrs.  Young  was  of 
Portuguese  origin  and  they  were  making  their  first 
visit  together  to  her  birthplace  and  her  people. 
Young  you  will  all  remember.  He  came  over  from 

(389) 


America  to  be  my  assistant,  but  after  seven  years 
wanted  to  swarm  off.  Accordingly  I  put  my  Leipzig 
patients  in  his  hands  and,  when  he  went  there  to  set- 
tle, he  had  a  practice  waiting  for  him.  He  was  a  most 
ingenious  man  with  an  active  and  original  mind  and 
had  become  very  skilful  in  his  profession.  I  had  known 
him  as  a  boy  and  greatly  esteemed  him  as  a  man  and 
his  too  early  decease  was  deeply  regretted  by  all  who 
knew  him. 

At  the  junction  we  found  Younger  and  Daboll  of 
Paris  and  travelled  with  them  to  Biarritz.  They  were 
even  more  tired  than  we  and  thought  of  spending  the 
night  in  Biarritz.  But  upon  arrival  I  ordered  a  judi- 
cious dinner  to  be  served  to  us  at  once  and  then  sent  a 
commissionaire  from  the  hotel  to  have  two  sleeping 
compartments  reserved  for  us,  without  telling  our 
companions,  thinking  that  perhaps  their  intention  of 
spending  the  night  in  Biarritz  might  change  after  a  re- 
freshing dinner.  We  had  sufficient  time  and  daylight 
to  see  the  beauties  of  the  greater  part  of  this  famous 
resort  and,  either  because  of  exaggerated  expectations 
or  through  contrast  with  the  superb  Pyrenean  scenery 
through  which  we  had  been  passing,  we  all  confessed 
to  a  feeling  of  disappointment.  It  was  therefore  not 
surprising  when  we  sat  down  at  a  table  commanding 
a  pleasing  landscape  and  a  view  of  the  sea  and  were 
refreshed  by  such  a  dinner  and  such  wines  as  only  a 

(  390  ) 


French  chef  on  French  soil  and  a  French  garcon  could 
prepare  and  serve,  that  we  were  all  of  one  mind  as  to 
going  on  to  Paris  that  night. 

Both  Younger  and  DaboU,  who  were  somewhat  my 
seniors,  were  exceptionally  gifted  men,  but  DaboU  was 
physically  and  mentally  remarkably  well  balanced. 
He  was  over  six  feet  tall,  splendidly  proportioned  and 
with  a  noble  head  and  manly  countenance.  He  bore  a 
strong  resemblance  to  Michael  Angelo's  "Moses"  and 
his  benevolent  character  was  revealed  in  his  kindly 
words  and  generous  deeds.  Yet  the  entire  episode  of 
our  journey  to  and  stay  at  Biarritz  and  the  subse- 
quent journey  to  Paris  was  completely  blotted  out  of 
his  calm,  well-regulated  mind,  and  he  has  never  since 
been  able  to  recall  any  incident  relating  to  it. 

We  hastened  to  our  rooms  at  the  Hotel  d'Jena  and 
then  went  to  Hirschfeld's,  where  we  were  in  time  to 
see  the  entrance  of  the  King.  To  me  this  event  was  of 
great  significance. 

Much  had  occurred  to  excite  my  apprehensions  and 
make  my  hope  of  a  league  of  peace  between  Germany, 
Great  Britain  and  America  appear  delusive.  The  awful 
animosity  of  the  German  people  to  the  British  in  the 
Boer  War,  evidently  not  due  to  any  sympathy  for  the 
Boers  but  to  sheer  envy  and  hatred  of  the  English, 
encouraged  by  the  German  press  and  also,  as  I  had 
reason  to  believe,  by  the  German  Government,  had 

(  391  ) 


seemed  to  me  a  most  serious  matter.  It  had  been  pre- 
ceded the  previous  year  by  a  universal,  if  less  violent, 
outbreak  of  a  similar  expression  of  animosity  to  Amer- 
ica, during  the  war  with  Spain.  I  had  endeavoured  at 
that  time  to  explain  to  the  German  Foreign  Office  and 
to  the  public  through  the  German  press  the  true  origin 
and  inevitable  result  of  the  conflict,  but  met  with  little 
sympathy.  Then  occurred  the  Chinese  war  and  the 
ferocious  words  of  the  Emperor  to  the  German  troops, 
in  which  he  ordered  them  to  conduct  themselves  so 
like  Huns  that  no  Chinaman  would  dare  look  askance 
at  a  German  for  a  thousand  years.  About  the  same 
time  took  place  the  Emperor's  astounding  visit  to  the 
blood-stained  Abdul  Hamid,  an  act  of  which  no  other 
non-Mohammedan  monarch  would  have  dreamed. 

I  had  come  at  last  to  believe  that  the  only  hope  of 
enduring  peace  lay  in  an  alliance  between  Great  Brit- 
ain, France,  Russia,  Italy  and  perhaps  Austria,  all  of 
which  countries,  combined  with  the  assurance  of  the 
tacit  sympathy  of  almost  all  the  minor  European 
States,  might  be  able  to  prevent  a  European  confla- 
gration. 

It  was  therefore  because  I  believed  the  coming  of 
King  Edward  was  an  event  of  historic  importance, 
that  I  had  carefully  made  my  plans  to  be  present. 
Truly  it  was  a  great  occasion.  The  reception  given  to 
the  King  was  not  only  splendid,  as  became  a  great, 

(  392  ) 


free  nation  gifted  with  a  genius  for  dramatic  effect, 
but  it  was  also  the  sincere  and  hearty  welcome  due  to 
a  sympathetic  and  familiar  friend.  Even  the  most 
thoughtless  must  have  felt  its  deep  significance;  but 
the  German  press  and  people  scoffed  at  it  and  regarded 
it  as  a  symptom  of  weakness  which  was  a  tribute  to 
German  might  and  cleverness. 

The  very  next  year  Germany  put  the  tie  between 
France  and  England  to  the  test  of  the  Delcasse  inci- 
dent and  caused  France  to  submit  to  the  humiliation 
of  dismissing  a  valued  minister  by  sheer  bullying.  In 
the  same  year  occurred  the  visit  of  the  German  Em- 
peror to  Tangier,  when  he  proclaimed  himself  protec- 
tor of  Mohammedans.  But  in  the  next  year,  1906,  was 
convened  the  International  Congress  at  Algeciras, 
where  only  Austria  voted  with  Germany  and  where 
even  she  gave  Germany  to  understand  that  she  would 
not  support  her  by  arms  in  any  cause  which  did  not 
intimately  concern  her  own  interests. 

This  event  and  the  influential  part  which  the  repre- 
sentatives of  America  played  in  the  Conference,  the 
American  Mission  being  distinguished  by  wide  knowl- 
edge of  the  European  situation,  complete  disinterest- 
edness and  tactful  consideration,  led  me  to  look  more 
hopefully  upon  the  prospect  of  continued  peace.  It 
seemed  as  if  Germany,  the  only  possible  disturber  of 
peace,  must  take  to  heart  the  moral  isolation  which 

(  393  ) 


she  owed  to  the  arrogance  of  the  military  party,  and 
place  confidence  in  her  diplomats  and  real  statesmen 
(I  had  then  great  confidence  in  Holstein  and  von 
Billow),  and  be  content  to  gain  what  she  might  legiti- 
mately strive  for  in  ways  of  peace. 

This  state  of  mind  made  it  easier  for  me  to  reach  a 
decision  toward  which  events  were  pressing  me.  I  had 
been  in  very  active  and  arduous  practice  in  Europe 
for  forty  years  and  was  in  my  sixty-sixth  year.  I  had 
begun  to  realize  that  I  was  mortal  and  could  not  go 
on  at  the  rate  of  the  past.  The  time  was  propitious  for 
me  to  relinquish  practice.  In  the  various  outside  un- 
dertakings in  which  I  had  been  engaged,  I  had  lost 
much  money,  but  Thorwald  had  greatly  advanced  in 
value  and,  with  the  continuation  of  peace,  I  could 
reasonably  expect  to  be  able  to  sell  it  for  a  sum  which 
would  eventually  give  my  children  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  apiece,  and  my  able  and  experienced  asso- 
ciate, Dr.  McBride,  was  desirous  of  acquiring  the 
practice.  I  wanted  leisure  to  carry  on  some  investiga- 
tions which  were  impracticable  so  long  as  I  was  in 
practice,  and  so,  at  last,  I  concluded  to  give  up  to 
McBride.  After  completing  the  sale  of  the  practice  to 
him,  I  remained  for  nearly  two  years,  during  which  I 
continued  to  be  almost  daily  at  the  office,  seeing  some 
of  my  most  attached  patients,  who  could  be  induced 
only  reluctantly  to  be  turned  over  to  the  younger  and 

(  394  ) 


more  skilful  man,  until  I  finally  gave  up  for  good  in 
the  autumn  of  1907  and  began  to  spend  my  winters  in 
Paris.  How  that  came  about  is  another  story. 


I907    Chapter  Nineteen    1910 

OUR  beloved  Nora  was  married  to  Theodore  Leslie 
Shear  on  June  29,  1907. 
Nora  had  a  rare  mind  and,  although  so  gentle  in  her 
ways,  possessed  much  firmness  of  character.  Instead 
of  pursuing  the  ordinary  courses  of  study,  which  were 
indeed  impracticable  for  her  during  two  years  of  in- 
validism, she  was  educated  by  private  governesses 
and  tutors.  I  love  to  recall  the  charming  photograph 
of  Nora  and  Professor  Habler,  who  taught  her  Latin 
at  an  early  age,  and  how  she  did  all  her  work  with 
seeming  ease,  in  spite  of  her  ill  health.  She  matured  in 
mind  more  rapidly  than  in  body  and  for  a  certain 
period  displayed  the  tendency  inherited  from  her 
Puritan  ancestry  to  sacrifice  herself  in  some  humani- 
tarian work  far  beyond  her  physical  power.  I  regarded 
this  episode  in  her  development  with  much  concern, 
but  she  was  sweetly  considerate  of  our  wishes  and  fi- 
nally began  to  study  art  with  Professor  Ehrenberg, 
whose  intelligent  instruction  was  as  good  for  her  ripen- 
ing mind  as  his  cheerful  companionship  was  comfort- 
ing to  her  often  depressed  spirits.  Then  came  a  period 
of  wider  interest  in  life.  She  spent  a  year  in  America, 
during  which  her  field  of  vision  expanded  and  her 
health  improved.  Her  cousin,  Bessie,  who  was  also 

(396) 


studying  art,  returned  with  her,  and  Herbert  sent  by 
them  a  magnificent  mastiff,  Odin  by  name,  as  a  pres- 
ent to  your  mother.  He  was  of  the  colour  and  about  the 
size  of  a  lioness  with  "a  head  as  large  as  mother's 
muff."  When  the  train  arrived  in  Dresden,  the  man  in 
the  baggage  van  was  afraid  of  the  dog,  but  Nora 
darted  up  the  line,  loosed  the  great  creature  and  al- 
most literally  laid  him  at  her  mother's  feet. 

This  splendid  dog  used  to  stalk  about  Thorwald 
like  a  King  of  beasts,  and  when  accompanied  by 
"Kappa  Alpha,"  a  beautiful  Cocker  spaniel  given  to 
your  mother  by  Rob  who  had  named  him  for  his  col- 
lege society,  and  by  "Ladysmith,"  Nora's  high-bred, 
white  bull  terrier,  and  "Loki,"  my  handsome  collie, 
each  one  of  them  being  a  perfect  specimen  of  his  class, 
it  was  a  sight  to  delight  the  heart  of  every  lover  of 
good  dogs.  They  lived  in  complete  friendship  and  en- 
joyed the  pleasures  of  the  chase  together.  There  were 
a  few  hares  on  the  place,  whom  the  whole  pack  de- 
lighted to  hunt,  but  owing  to  the  excellence  of  the 
cover  and  the  astuteness  of  the  hares,  the  dogs  could 
never  catch  them.  There  was  one  experienced  old 
bunny  among  them  who  seemed  to  delight  in  fooling 
the  dogs.  He  would,  whenever  pining  for  amusement, 
nonchalantly  saunter  into  that  part  of  the  park  near 
the  house  which  was  called  the  "Hain"  and  show  him- 
self to  the  nearest  dog,  who  would  at  once  give  tongue; 

(  397  ) 


whereupon  all  the  others  would  rush  to  join  the  chase. 
It  was  better  than  a  play  to  watch  that  wily  creature 
leading  the  dogs  easily  by  his  great  speed  and  looking 
over  his  shoulder  with  a  mocking  grin  as  he  led  them 
a  devious  course  all  over  the  place,  finally  disappear- 
ing when  he  had  had  enough  of  the  sport.  He  came  to 
a  tragic  end  at  last,  however,  by  overconfidence.  Odin 
had  made  a  detour  as  the  other  dogs  were  following  at 
full  cry,  and  met  the  hare  just  as  he  was  leading  the 
dogs  from  the  orchard  along  the  path  above  the  sculp- 
tor's studio.  Bunny  had  no  other  choice  than  to  leap 
over  the  high,  precipitous  rocks  at  his  left  into  the 
"Hain,"  and  broke  his  neck  against  a  stone. 

I  must  also  tell  you  the  story  of  how  your  mother 
rescued  Loki  from  drowning.  She  was  about  going 
into  town  one  morning  when  she  thought  she  heard  a 
dog  whimpering.  Looking  about  and  seeing  nothing 
but  hearing  the  faint  noise  still  continuing,  she  came 
to  the  pond  and  saw,  when  she  came  to  look  into  the 
quadrangle  built  to  contain  the  fish  when  the  water 
was  drawn  off  the  larger  basin,  just  the  tip  of  poor 
Loki's  nose.  He  was  weighted  by  his  water-soaked  fur 
and  of  course  could  not  have  gotten  out  by  himself  in 
any  event  and  was  evidently  at  the  last  gasp.  There 
was  no  time  to  call  for  help,  and  so,  at  the  risk  of  being 
herself  drawn  in,  she  caught  at  the  dog's  neck  as  he 
floated  within  reach  of  her  arm  and  by  main  strength 

(398 ) 


finally  pulled  him  out,  for  he  was  too  exhausted  to 
help  himself.  For  some  days  afterward,  Loki  ceased  to 
be  my  dog,  but  followed  his  dear  mistress  with  every 
evidence  of  deep  gratitude  wherever  he  was  per- 
mitted to  accompany  her. 

Here  I  want  to  tell  you  how  she  rescued  another  of 
our  well-loved  animals.  Leonard  had  sent  over  to  me 
his  beautiful  mare  "Mordjiana."  He  had  bred  her  him- 
self in  Kentucky  and  she  was  a  model  of  high-pedi- 
greed trotter.  One  day  your  mother  was  looking  out 
from  the  window  of  her  Kemenate,  which  overlooked 
the  driveway,  to  see  if  the  coachman  was  bringing 
"Morgie"  to  drive  her  into  town.  Presently  she  saw 
the  carriage  coming  down  the  road  from  the  stable 
without  the  coachman.  It  seems  that  he  had  left  the 
team  for  a  moment,  the  reins  wound  rather  tightly 
round  the  whip  socket,  and  Morgie,  feeling  the  pres- 
sure on  her  bit,  evidently  thought  she  was  being 
driven  and  started  by  herself  for  the  house,  obeying 
the  rein  which  guided  her  directly  over  the  precipitous 
crag  at  the  side  of  the  road.  There  she  hung  in  mid  air, 
held  by  her  harness,  which  caught  in  a  tree,  and  by 
the  carriage,  whose  wheels  were  wedged  in  among  the 
bushes  and  trees  on  the  border,  which  had  veiled  the 
precipice  from  the  sight  of  the  horse  before  she 
plunged  over.  Both  horse  and  coachman  were  helpless 
with  fright,  but  your  mother  rushed  out,  got  the 

(  399  ) 


coachman's  knife  and  cut  the  traces,  which  released 
Mordjiana,  letting  her  escape  with  a  few  scratches  and 
a  nasty  cut  across  the  shin,  a  blemish  for  several  years. 
These  are  but  minor  incidents  illustrating  the  courage 
and  quick  decision  of  your  dear  mother  in  sudden 
emergencies,  which  you  all  have  had  reason  to  admire 
and  which  have  given  to  each  of  you  at  times,  and  to 
me  always,  a  sense  of  comfort  and  security,  especially 
in  every  serious  crisis  of  life. 

But  to  return  to  Nora.  She  finally  decided  that  she 
wanted  seriously  to  study  decorative  art.  We  all 
thought  she  would  probably  not  become  a  creative 
artist,  but  the  thorough  study  of  any  branch  of  art 
could  lead  to  a  career  which  should  be  suitable  to  her 
abilities.  So  I  gladly  gave  my  consent,  since  it  was 
evident  that  she  must  have  an  avocation  and  I  desired 
that  she  should  find  it  for  herself.  She  began  to  study, 
first  at  Brussels  and  then  in  Paris.  She  took  her  anat- 
omy and  her  other  studies  Hke  a  man,  but  with  more 
than  most  men's  conscientiousness.  Her  professors 
were  pleased  with  her  and  as  part  of  her  training  ad- 
vised her  to  go  to  London  and  study  artistic  book- 
binding with  Cobden-Sanderson.  Among  her  lectures 
upon  the  history  of  art  at  the  Beaux  Arts,  she  espe- 
cially profited  by  those  on  archseology  and  finally  de- 
cided to  devote  herself  to  this  most  alluring  study.  At 
that  period  of  her  development  neither  your  dear 

(  400  ) 


mother  nor  I  could  see  to  what  this  could  lead,  but  we 
had  confidence  in  Nora's  judgement  and  were  wiUing 
that  she  should  decide  the  question  for  herself.  She 
improved  her  opportunities  in  Paris  and  in  1905  went 
for  the  winter  to  study  at  the  American  School  of 
Archaeology  at  Athens.  She  also  went  to  Crete  and 
took  the  school  trip  to  Troy,  and  came  back  in  the 
spring  through  Italy,  returning  to  us  in  improved 
health  and  with  the  assurance  that  she  had  found  her 
true  career. 

We  heard  her  speak  of  a  Mr.  Shear,  who  was  one  of 
the  students  at  Athens  and  who  came  later  to  study  at 
Berlin  and  saw  that  she  admired  his  talents  and  learn- 
ing. She  had  decided  to  go  to  Bonn  for  the  winter  of 
1 905- 1 906  and  we  heard  by  one  of  her  letters  that  Mr. 
Shear  had  also  come  to  Bonn  to  study  under  Professor 
Loeschcke  and  that  he  helped  her  with  her  Greek, 
since  he  was  an"  excellent  Greek  scholar.  We  had 
already  begun  to  suspect  that  Nora  was  seeing  more 
than  was  absolutely  necessary  of  her  fellow  pupil  and 
were  therefore  not  entirely  surprised  at  receiving  one 
spring  day  in  1906  letters  from  them  both  asking  our 
consent  to  their  betrothal.  I  at  once  telegraphed  Nora 
to  meet  us  at  Frankfurter  Hof  at  Frankfort,  to  which 
city  we  went  at  once.  Nora  told  us  the  story  of  their 
acquaintance  and  how  it  ripened  into  friendship  and 
love,  and  the  next  day  Mr.  Shear  appeared  also.  His 

(  401  ) 


account  of  himself  and  his  family  and  the  impression 
he  made  upon  your  mother  and  me  were  altogether 
favourable,  but  I  told  him,  that  considering  they  had 
known  each  other  so  short  a  time  and  he  had  not  con- 
sulted his  own  parents  before  asking  for  Nora's  hand, 
I  would  consent  to  their  betrothal  only  after  a  proba- 
tion of  a  year.  I  asked  him  to  go  back  to  America  and 
after  a  year's  separation  to  write  me,  and  if  they  were 
still  of  the  same  mind,  I  would  gladly  consent  to  their 
engagement.  This  he  readily  promised.  He  went  back 
to  New  York  and  took  a  position  as  instructor  in 
Greek  at  Columbia,  and  a  year  later  he  wrote  to  say 
his  feelings  were  unchanged  and  begged  to  come  over 
and  marry  Nora  in  the  early  summer. 

Nora  in  the  meantime  had  been  working  upon  her 
dissertation,  which  was  to  consummate  her  studies  at 
Paris,  Brussels,  London,  Athens  and  Bonn.  She  had 
chosen  as  her  theme  ancient  Greek  costume.  She  had 
become  convinced  that  the  graceful  folds  of  Greek 
robes,  as  found  in  archaic  Greek  art,  were  not  conven- 
tional, as  was  the  prevailing  theory,  but  represented 
actualities,  as  was  to  be  presumed  of  a  people  who 
sought  not  only  beauty  but  truth  in  art.  This  opinion 
was  confirmed  by  her  studies.  She  had  made  hundreds 
of  drawings  of  draped  Greek  figures  from  statuary  and 
vases  and  had  finally  concluded  that  just  such  folds 
would  result  from  garments  fashioned  in  a  single  piece 

(  402  ) 


as  woven  and  held  in  place  on  the  shoulder  by  safety- 
pins  such  as  are  found  and  shown  in  sculpture  and 
upon  vases  among  ancient  ruins.  The  contention  here- 
tofore among  learned  men  was  that  garments  as  de- 
picted in  ancient  Greek  art  could  not  be  doffed  and 
donned  and  therefore  must  be  ideals  of  the  artist,  real 
clothing  having  seams  and  other  deviations,  such  as 
these  did  not  show.  Nora  believed  that  the  Greeks 
would  not  injure  the  beautiful  textures  they  wove  by 
cutting,  and  she  found  that  the  modern  Greeks  had 
still  preserved,  in  obscure  parts  of  Greece,  the  art  of 
weaving  cloth  on  such  looms  as  Penelope  may  have 
used. 

But,  not  content  with  theory,  she  dressed  a  manikin 
in  such  robes,  and  then  living  girls,  and  reproduced 
perfectly  the  forms  represented  in  Greek  art  and  held 
the  uncut  cloth  securely  in  place  by  means  of  a  single 
safety-pin.  This  thesis  she  read  and  defended  at  the 
Louvre  Institute  of  Archaeology  upon  formally  com- 
pleting her  studies  there,  and  not  only  received  com- 
mendation, but  entirely  convinced  the  eminent  schol- 
ars who  examined  her  that  she  had  correctly  solved 
this  interesting  question  which  had  puzzled  genera- 
tions of  archaeologists.  She  herself  modestly  regarded 
this  work  as  one  which  would  more  naturally  be  done 
by  a  woman  rather  than  by  a  man.  True  enough,  per- 
haps, of  one  who,  to  a  woman's  usual  qualifications, 

(  403  ) 


had  added  the  study  not  only  of  drawing  and  painting 
but  also  of  archaeology  and  the  history  of  art.  We 
were  greatly  pleased  at  this  triumph  of  our  dear  child 
and  rejoiced  that  she  had  followed  her  inclinations  in 
pursuing  her  educational  course. 

On  the  twenty-ninth  of  June,  1907,  Nora  and  Leslie 
were  married  at  Thorwald.  Dear  Mr.  Bowden,  the 
pastor  of  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church  at  Dresden, 
who  had  confirmed  all  you  children,  officiated,  as  he 
did  at  Grace's  wedding  and  that  of  your  cousin  Louise, 
and,  as  before,  the  Oriental  room  was  made  over  into 
a  chapel,  than  which  a  more  beautiful  one  could  not 
be  desired.  Mr.  Bowden,  with  that  cathoHcity  which 
endeared  him  so  much  to  us  all,  readily  consented  to 
use  the  marriage  service  of  the  Church  of  England, 
since  Leslie  was  an  Episcopalian,  and  got  on  fairly 
well  with  the  unfamihar  ceremony,  despite  a  little 
hesitation  now  and  then,  and  we  saw  our  dear  child 
depart  with  every  reasonable  prospect  of  a  useful  and 
happy  life.  Not  long  after  their  marriage  there  came 
an  unexpected  improvement  in  the  fortunes  of  Leslie's 
family,  which  made  it  possible  for  him  to  give  up  his 
position  as  teacher  at  Columbia,  while  still  retaining 
an  official  connection  with  the  University  and  to  en- 
gage in  archaeological  exploration. 

Some  months  earlier  your  mother  went  to  Paris 
with  Nora  to  buy  her  trousseau  and  during  the  latter 

(  404  ) 


part  of  their  stay  I  joined  them  there.  It  chanced  that 
one  of  my  old  patients  needed  some  attention  and  my 
old  friend,  Dr.  Crane,  a  contemporary  of  Evans,  of- 
fered me  the  hospitality  of  his  office.  Indeed,  all  my 
colleagues  in  Paris  vied  with  each  other  in  trying  to 
make  Paris  agreeable  to  me,  especially  when  they 
knew  that  I  was  desirous  of  doing  some  experimental 
work.  After  long  labour,  your  mother  had  discovered  a 
method  of  making  a  low  fusing  prosthetic  porcelain. 
Theoretically  it  was  perfectly  adapted  to  the  purpose 
I  had  in  view  and  we  had  both  worked  over  it  for 
many  months.  The  object  was  to  unite  high-fusing 
porcelain  teeth  with  a  platinum  base  by  means  of  a 
porcelain  fusing  below  the  melting  point  of  gold  and, 
having  succeeded  in  accomplishing  this  and  partially 
proving  its  usefulness  before  giving  up  practice  In 
Dresden,  I  was  desirous  of  an  opportunity  of  still 
further  developing  its  application  In  porcelain  bridge- 
work.  The  result  was  that  I  finally  accepted  the  kind 
offer  of  Dr.  William  Davenport  of  a  room  at  his  office 
and  spent  several  years  there  in  this  interesting  work. 
No  words  can  express  the  kindness  which  my  col- 
leagues, French,  English,  American  and  others,  show- 
ered upon  me  during  those  years.  Twice  I  was  elected 
President  of  the  American  Dental  Club  of  Paris,  an 
organization  composed  of  Americans,  Frenchmen  and 
men  of  other  nationalities  practising  in  France  who 

(  405  ) 


were  American  graduates  in  dentistry.  They  formed 
a  society  unique  in  professional  history,  all  of  them 
being  men  of  mark  and  many  of  them  of  international 
reputation,  united  upon  the  basis  of  a  common  pro- 
fessional education  in  the  land  where  dentistry  had 
first  become  a  science.  The  climax  of  my  professional 
career  was  reached  in  a  banquet  which  the  Paris  Club 
gave  me  upon  my  seventieth  birthday,  on  December 
29, 1910. 

The  Club  had  made  elaborate  preparations  long 
before  the  event,  as  I  learned  upon  the  evening  of  the 
banquet.  It  was  celebrated  in  something  like  regal 
splendour  in  one  of  the  gorgeous  banqueting  halls  of 
the  Hotel  Continental  in  Paris.  Not  only  the  members 
of  the  Club  were  present,  but  also  colleagues  from 
many  nations.  Every  European  country  which  had  a 
national  dental  society  was  represented,  either  by  a 
delegate,  or  through  illuminated  addresses  or  diplo- 
mas of  honorary  membership. 

The  attendance,  numerous  as  it  was,  would  have 
been  even  greater  but  that  the  date,  just  between 
Christmas  and  the  New  Year,  rendered  it  impossible 
for  many  to  come.  I  was,  therefore,  even  more  touched 
at  the  sacrifice  some  men  had  made  to  be  present. 
Aguilar  of  Madrid  was  a  conspicuous  example  and 
Guerini  of  Naples  another.  The  latter  told  me  that  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  not  passed  all  the  Christmas 

(406) 


holidays  with  his  aged  mother,  but  that  she  was  will- 
ing to  spare  him  to  do  honour  to  his  friend. 

Our  attached  friend.  Dr.  Hirschfeld,  had  a  remark- 
able talent  for  organizing  festivities  and  in  all  he  had 
to  do  as  a  member  of  the  Club  committee  upon  this 
occasion  he  surpassed  himself.  He  arranged,  among 
much  else  designed  to  minister  to  our  pleasure,  that 
your  mother,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Hirschfeld,  should 
be  privately  admitted  at  the  right  moment  to  a 
screened  gallery,  where  they  could,  themselves  un- 
seen, look  down  upon  the  hall  and  hear  the  speeches. 
Hirschfeld,  having  been  chiefly  educated  in  Germany, 
had  the  true  German  appreciation  of  the  value  of  an 
honorary  title,  and  Mrs.  Hirschfeld,  although  an 
American  by  birth,  shared  his  sentiments.  She,  there- 
fore, at  every  speech  or  presentation  of  a  gift,  kept 
saying  to  your  mother,  "The  best  is  still  to  come!" 
This  proved  to  be  the  reading  of  a  telegram  from 
Count  Vitzthum,  the  Saxon  Prime  Minister,  to  an- 
nounce that  His  Majesty,  King  Friedrich  August,  had 
conferred  upon  me  the  title  of  Geheimer  Hofrat.  It 
was  a  wholly  unexpected  honour  for,  although  I  had 
long  been  Hofrat,  I  knew  of  no  instance  of  a  foreigner 
to  whom  both  titles  had  been  given  and,  while  I  sus- 
pected that  the  bestowal  of  this  distinction  must  have 
been  instigated  by  some  of  my  friends,  I  was  still 
pleased  to  receive  it. 

(  407  ) 


Your  Uncle  George  and  Grace's  husband,  Cavalie, 
were  among  the  guests  and  we  ardently  wished  that 
Leonard  could  have  been  present  also,*  for  this  event 
both  to  your  mother  and  to  myself  was  a  source  of 
great  happiness.  All  of  my  colleagues  knew  how  great 
a  helpmeet  your  dear  mother  had  been  to  me  and  all 
of  them,  who  in  the  intimacy  of  our  circle  in  Paris  had 
come  to  know  her  well,  frankly  gave  to  her  whole- 
hearted admiration  and  affection. 

Following  is  a  list  of  the  honours  and  gifts  bestowed 
upon  this  occasion. 

DISTINCTIONS  OF  HONOUR 

New  York  State  Dental  Society  Jarvie  Gold  Medal 

California  State  Dental  Society  Honorary  Membership 

Rochester  Dental  Society  Honorary  Membership 

Hayden-Harris  Society  (Baltimore  College) 

Honorary  Membership 
Seventh  District  Dental  Society  New  York 

Honorary  Membership 
Verein  Oesterreichischer  Zahnaerzte  Honorary  Membership 
La  Federation  Dentaire  Nationale  Beige 

Complimentary  Address  on  illumi- 
nated parchment 
National  Dental  Society  Honorary  Membership 

Societe  Odontologique  de  France  Honorary  Presidency 

Societe  d'Odontologie  de  Paris  Gold  Medal 

Ecole  Dentaire  de  Paris  Honorary  Membership 

Association  General  des  Dentistes  de  France  et  Federation 
Dentaire  Internationale  Congratulatory  Parchment 

*See  Appendix,  note  ii. 
(408    ) 


British  Dental  Association 

Address  and  letter  from  the  President 

Central  Verein  Deutscher  Zahnaerzte 

Illuminated  laudatory  parchment 
bound  in  embossed  leather 

BerUner  Zahnaerztliche  Vereinigung 

Address  renewing  Honorary  Mem- 
bership and  enclosed  in  case  of  em- 
bossed leather 

National  Dental  Society  of  Netherlands      Honorary  Diploma 

Societe  Stomatologica  meridionale 

Dedicatory  parchment  handsome- 
ly decorated  and  framed 

Federazione  Stomatologica  Italiana 

Corresponding  Membership 

National  Dental  Society  of  Norway       Honorary  Membership 

National  Dental  Society  of  Spain 

Honorary  Membership  and  mes- 
sage from  Queen  Dowager 

National  Dental  Society  of  Sweden        Honorary  Membership 

National  Dental  Society  of  Switzerland 

Congratulatory  letter 

Zahnaertzliche  Verein  in  Hamburg 

Superbly  illuminated  laudatory 
parchment  in  embossed  leather 
portfolio 

TOKENS  OF  ESTEEM 

From  The  W.  D.  Miller  Club  Silver  cigarette  box 

La  Federation  Dentaire  Nationale  Beige 

Artistic  box  in  finely  tooled  leather 
for  preservation  of  birthday  docu- 
ments, and  gorgeous  bouquet  for 
Mrs.  Jenkins 

Chicago  Dental  Society  "Resolutions" 

(  409  ) 


King  of  Saxony  Title  of  Geheimer  Hofrat 

Dr.  Spring  Pictures  of  Old  Dresden 

Personal  friends  of  Dr.  Jenkins  and  Practitioners 

of  Great  Britain  Candelabra  and  tray  of  choice  old 

Sheffield  plate,  with  names  of  do- 
nors   on    illuminated    parchment 
sumptuously  bound 
American  Dental  Society  of  London 

Two  silver  fruit  dishes 
National  Dental  Society  of  Madrid 

Bronze  statuette  of  Victory 
Dr.  Guerini  Bronze  bust  of  Chapin  Harris 

Dr.  Ottolengui  and  a  few  other  friends 

Gold  plate  with  names  of  donors 
engraved  in  autograph  upon  it 
Dr.  Guilford's  testimonial  from  the  principal  U.  S.  practitioners 

Album  containing  photographs  of 
no  eminent  colleagues  in  America 
Dr.  Hosley  Letter  and  toast 

Dr.  WoUison  Album  to  contain  the  250  congrat- 

ulatory telegrams 
American  Dental  Society  of  Europe 

Silver  tea  service  of  six  pieces 

American  Dental  Club  of  Paris  Gold  repeater 

Dr.  Rudolf  Weiser  Oil  painting  by  Alfred  Zoff 

Great  numbers  of  telegrams  and  letters  from  dental  societies 

and  colleagues. 


'"I"  ""I"  "i"i!iii|i"i. .i^[:j!inrTiii!"'iiii'iiNii!iv,i'!!!.HMiffl|niimi|i|llBlllllllllllllirilllllillllU' Z 


BANQUET 

given  to 

HOFRATH    D'^  N.  S.  JENKINS 

on  the  occasion  of  his  70**'  Birthday 

by  his  friends 

under  the  Auspices 

of 

The  American  Dental  Club  of  Paris 

December  29  *>>   1910 
Continental  Hotel 


AMERICA. 

AUSTRIA. 

BELGIUM. 

DANEMARK. 

FRANCE. 


GREAT  BRITAIN. 
GERMANY. 

HOLLAND. 
ITALY. 

NORWAY. 
SPAIN. 
SUEDE. 
SWITZERLAND. 


President  D'  E.    BURT 

Preseniaiion    of  Distinctions    of  Honor 


N.  Y.  State  Dental  Society.     . 
California  State  Dental  Society     • 
Hayden-Harris  Society  (Baltimore  College) 
Verein  Oesterreichiscber  Zahnaerzte 
Verein  Wiener  Zahnaerzte  . 
La  F£d6ration  Dentaire  Nadonale  Beige  . 
National  Dental  Society .... 
Soci£t6  Odontologique  de  France . 
Soci6t6  d'Odontologie  de  Paris.    . 
Ecole  Dentaire  de  Paris .... 


Association    G^n^rale    des     Dentistes    de 
S^d6ration  Dentaire  Nationale  ■ 


F6d6ration  Dentaire  Internationale. 
Adress  from  the  President  of  the  B.D.A.  (D 
C.  Verein  Deutscher  Zahnaerzte   . 
Berliner  Zahnaerztliche  Vereinigung. 
National  Dental  Society  of  Netherland 
SocI6t6  Stomatologique  M^ridionale. 
Federazione  Stomatologica  Italiana. 
National  Dental  Society. 
National  Dental  Society . 
National  Dental  Society . 
National  Dental  Society . 


France    et 


Waite). 


D'J.-B.  Davenport 
D'  W.  Younger. 

«  Ih  P.  Schenk. 

*  D'  E.  Rosenthal. 
0'  Heidi. 

*  D'  Sillre. 

*  D'  Heidi. 

*  D'^  Blatter. 

*  D' F.Jean. 

*  0'  H.  Boy. 

D'  H.  Mummery. 

*  D'  Mamlok. 

*  D'  E.  Schmidt. 

*  D'  J.  Grevers. 

*  D'  Guirini. 

D'  Heide. 

*  D"'  Aguilar. 
The  Secretary. 
D'  Wetzel. 


*  Officially  delegated  by  his  Society 


MENU 


Hors-<f  CEuxn-e  d  la    Russe. 

X^res    Vieux Consommi  aux   Quenelles. 

Bisque  d'£crevisse. 

The  Presidents  of  the  two  Sister- Republics 

proposed  by  D'  G.-C.   DabolL 

Haut-Sauterne D^ I  ices  de  Soles    au   Champagne. 

ChAteauMouton-Rothschild  i898.  Selle    de    Chevreuil  Grand    Veneur. 

Noix   de  Ris  de    Veau  Princesse. 

Mandarines   qivriej. 

Pommery  Greno Poulardes  truffies  d  la    Broche. 

Drapeau   Am^ricain 

Toast  in    honor  of   D'  N.-S.  JENK.INS 

proposed   by   D'  E.    BURT. 

Langoustes   d  la   Parisienne, 

Cardans   d   la  Moelle. 

Bombe  ftralinie    Cafi. 
Gdteau    Diplomate. 

Friandises. 
Corbeille  de  Fruits. 

Cafi.     —     Ligueurs. 


Presentation   of  Tokens    of  Esteem 


BERLIN. 

BRUXELLES. 

CHICAGO. 

DRESDEN. 

LONDON. 

MADRID. 

NAPLES. 

NEW  YORK. 

PHILADELPHIA, 

SPRINCFIELD. 

St  PETERSBOURG. 


The  W.-D.  Miller  Club *  D'  C.-M.  Abbott. 

La  F^d6ration  Dentaire  Nationale  Beige  .     .         •         •  *  D'  E.  Rosenthal. 

D'  Brophy's  Testimonial D'  C.  Hayes. 

Personal  tribute  of D'  Spring. 

Personal  friends  of  D' Jenkins  and  Practicioners  of  Great  Britain        D'  H.  Mummery 

TheA.  D.S.  L *  D' E.-B.  White. 

National  Dental  Society *  D' Aguilar. 

Personal  tribute  of D'  Guerini. 

D'  Ottolengui  and  a  few  other  friends ....  D'  Spaulding. 

D'  Guilford's  testimonial  from  the  principal  U.  S.  practicioners        D'  Daboll. 

D' Hosley's  tribute The  Secretary. 

Personal  tribute  of  D' Wollison The  Secretary. 

The  A. D.S.  Europe ♦  D' F.  Robinson. 

The  AD. C.  Paris.       .         • *  D' Hirschteld. 


Response    of  D'    7V.-.S.    JENKINS 


1907      Chapter  Twenty      1914 

TOURING  the  winter  of  1 907-1 908  I  had  leisure  to 
-L-' carry  out  a  purpose  which  was  the  natural  result 
of  my  long  experience  in  practice.  When  I  received  my 
first  permission  to  practise  in  Dresden,  I  was  much 
aided  by  the  medical  colleagues,  who  received  me 
most  cordially.  They  told  me,  among  much  else,  that 
the  native  dentists  did  not  practise  ethically  and  that 
they  even  manufactured  and  sold  dentifrices  in  their 
offices.  Of  course  I  assured  them  that  in  this  particu- 
lar, as  in  all  else,  I  should  practise  ethically  and  indeed 
I  never  so  much  as  made  an  announcement  in  the 
press,  after  the  custom  of  the  most  eminent  German 
physicians,  who  thought  it  proper  to  use  this  means  to 
inform  their  patients  of  their  return  from  an  absence. 
In  all  respects  I  tried  to  set  an  example,  being  by  tem- 
perament and  by  conviction  averse  to  any  kind  of 
professional  advertising. 

Accordingly  I  began  to  write  prescriptions  for  den- 
tifrices, and  later,  when  I  began  to  see  that  the  whole 
mouth  and  throat  must  be  regarded  as  a  unit  in  sani- 
tary treatment,  for  mouth  washes  and  gargles  also. 
These  prescriptions  were  usually  carefully  preserved 
and  brought  back  to  me  for  revision  at  certain  inter- 
vals. My  European  clientele  was  loyal  and  obedient 

(411 ) 


to  a  rare  degree.  Especially  was  this  the  case  with  pa- 
tients who  returned  only  after  long  intervals  because 
they  lived  at  a  great  distance,  as  in  Siberia  or  Egypt 
or  Asia  Minor.  Such  patients  would  bring  back  pre- 
scriptions and  tell  me  that  they  had  used  them  faith- 
fully according  to  directions;  until  at  last,  when  bac- 
teriology had  begun  to  revolutionize  the  theory  and 
practice  of  medicine,  I  was  in  possession  of  a  mass  of 
clinical  observation  and  experience  of  considerable 
importance. 

That  led  me  to  consider  the  practicabihty  of  mak- 
ing a  dentifrice  which  would  not  only  thoroughly,  yet 
harmlessly,  cleanse  the  teeth,  but  through  the  use  of 
which  the  soft  tissues  of  the  mouth  and  throat  might 
regularly  be  placed  in  a  degree  of  sanitation  which 
would  reduce  liabihty  to  contract  infections  or  dis- 
seminate them. 

During  the  winter  1 907-1 908  I  worked  out  my 
theory  and  in  February  of  1908  I  sailed  for  America. 
The  first  experiments  were  made  by  the  aid  of  Pro- 
fessor Harry  Foote  at  the  Yale  Chemical  Laboratory. 

One  of  the  great  difficulties  had  been  to  obtain  a 
really  neutral  soap,  and  your  dear  mother,  with  her 
unfailing  persistence,  had  succeeded  in  finding  such  a 
soap  in  Paris  and  to  this  fortunate  circumstance  I  was 
greatly  indebted  in  convincing  Leonard  and  Foote 
that  the  discovery  was  genuine. 

(  412  ) 


I  had  already  tried  having  the  paste  prepared  to 
prescription  by  various  apothecaries  in  different  Euro- 
pean countries  and  found  not  only  that  it  was  too 
expensive  for  general  use  when  put  up  in  small  quan- 
tities, but  that  the  products  of  no  two  apothecaries 
intimately  resembled  each  other.  I  therefore  became 
convinced  that  it  was  not  only  justifiable  but  neces- 
sary to  have  it  manufactured  on  a  large  scale  and  by  a 
stock  company.  I  was  much  encouraged  in  my  view 
by  the  opinion  and  advice  of  Dr.  H.  Everton  Hosley, 
of  Springfield,  Massachusetts,  who  was  not  only  a 
very  able  dental  practitioner,  but  also  an  excellent 
man  of  business.  He  came  to  call  upon  me  while  I  was 
visiting  Leonard  at  New  Haven,  became  interested  in 
the  matter  and  was  present  at  London  in  August  of 
the  same  year  when  I  read  a  paper  upon  the  subject 
before  the  American  Dental  Society  of  Europe.  In 
this  paper  I  explained  the  origin  of  Kolynos,  gave  its 
complete  formula  and  showed  the  necessity  for  its 
being  manufactured  by  a  commercial  company.  The 
paper  was  very  sympathetically  received  and  its  pur- 
pose has,  from  the  first,  been  approved  and  aided  by 
great  numbers  of  my  colleagues  in  many  lands. 

I  wanted  a  name  for  the  new  product  which  should 
signify  "Disease  Preventer,"  and  asked  Leslie  to  write 
out  for  me  various  Greek  names  expressive  of  the  idea. 
Among  a  number  which  the  rich  Greek  language  fur- 

(413) 


nished,  we  finally  decided  upon  Ko/ynos,  as  a  legiti- 
mate contraction  from  Kolyo  nosos  conveying  the 
exact  idea.  Leslie,  Nora  and  I  had  a  delightful  dinner 
at  the  Buckingham  Hotel  in  New  York  at  which  the 
name  was  finally  decided  upon,  and  I  have  had  a  sen- 
timental interest  in  that  old-time  but  comfortable 
house  ever  since,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  have  never 
been  able  to  manage  the  art  of  dining  there  in  my  own 
apartment  quite  satisfactorily,  often  as  we  have  been 
guests  at  this  hotel. 

As  soon  as  Leonard  was  convinced  of  the  value  of 
Kolynos,  he  began  its  manufacture  and  the  first  tubes 
were  issued  and  sold  on  April  13,  1908. 

When  our  private  company  was  merged  into  "The 
Kolynos  Company,"  Mr.  Calvin  Townley,  an  engi- 
neer by  profession  but  also  a  high  type  of  corporation 
executive,  and  Dr.  Hosley,  both  friends  of  Leonard, 
took  some  stock  and  became  directors  in  the  com- 
pany. Their  counsel  has  been  invaluable  in  matters 
concerning  the  conduct  and  expansion  of  the  busi- 
ness. 

In  the  sad  days  in  which  I  am  writing,  when  I  have 
reason  to  fear  that  my  German  property  will  be  value- 
less even  in  the  time  of  my  children,  I  entertain  the 
hope  that  my  interest  in  the  Kolynos  Company, 
Kolynos  Incorporated,  and  the  European  Kolynos 
Company  will  be  sufficient  to  partially  recompense 

(  414  ) 


them  for  this  loss.  I,  of  all  men,  ought  to  have  foreseen 
the  impending  catastrophe. 

From  1907  on  we  spent  our  winters  chiefly  in  Paris 
and  returned  to  Thorwald,  usually  in  May,  for  the 
summer.  I  had  formally  renounced  my  residence  in 
Germany  and  was  allowed  to  occupy  Thorwald  as  a 
summer  visitor,  liable  only  for  income  tax  on  the 
money  I  spent  in  Germany.  It  was  an  ideal  life,  most 
grateful  to  us,  and  as  the  property  was  constantly  in- 
creasing in  value  and  since  a  branch  of  the  European 
Kolynos  Company  had  been  established  in  Berlin,  I 
was  very  willing  to  go  on  in  this  way,  thinking,  even 
after  the  extra  war  tax  laid  on  property  in  19 13,  that 
the  military  party  would  not  be  able  to  involve  Aus- 
tria in  its  plots  and  that  the  hostility  to  Germany's 
ambitions  in  all  the  neighbouring  nations  would  be  the 
determining  factor  in  preserving  peace. 

We  had,  however,  many  misgivings.  Every  year, 
upon  returning  to  Germany,  we  noticed  an  increase  in 
the  ill  temper  and  discontent  of  the  people.  They  were 
sullen,  arrogant  and  offensive,  in  constantly  increas- 
ing ratio. 

But  the  Anglo-Russian  agreement  was  made  in 
1907;  the  annexation  of  Bosnia,  although  widely  re- 
sented, spent  itself  in  words;  even  the  incident  of 
sending  the  Panther  to  Agadir  in  191 1,  when  for  three 
months  the  German  press  was  breathing  out  threaten- 

(415) 


ings  and  slaughter  and  filling  Europe  with  fear  of  war, 
was  ended  by  an  agreement  which  seemed  to  settle  the 
future  of  North  Africa  without  endangering  peace.  The 
Balkan  wars  were  over  without  involving  the  Great 
Powers.  It  seemed  as  if  the  forces  for  peace  were  more 
potent  than  those  for  war.  Although  the  Navy  Bills  of 
1 906- 1 908  and  19 1 2  had  greatly  increased  the  German 
fleet,  it  was  still  no  match  for  that  of  Great  Britain, 
and  when  we  went,  in  the  autumn  of  1912,  to  America, 
I  felt  fairly  certain  that  the  danger  was  not  imminent. 

Satia,  Leonard's  beautiful  wife,  had  passed  away, 
displaying  all  through  the  progress  of  her  distressing 
malady  great  fortitude  and  touching  unselfishness.  In 
the  autumn  of  the  year  of  her  death,  191 2,  we  went  to 
America  to  consult  with  Leonard  regarding  the  future 
of  his  family  and  the  business.  We  found  him,  as  had 
always  been  the  case  with  him  in  time  of  trial,  strong 
and  self-composed.  His  business  had  made  great  de- 
mands upon  his  time  and  he  was  managing  all  his  af- 
fairs with  an  abihty  which  commanded  my  hearty  ad- 
miration. Plans  had  been  made  and  completed  for  es- 
tablishing a  branch  of  the  Kolynos  company  in  Ber- 
lin, and  in  many  foreign  countries  Kolynos  had  been 
introduced  with  promising  results. 

Nora  and  Leslie  had  returned  from  Loryma,  where 
they  had  a  concession  to  excavate,  and  were  consider- 
ing a  possible  chance  of  taking  over  the  American  ex- 

( 416 ) 


plorations  at  Sardis,  a  purpose  which  was  realized  in 
1 9 14.  I  had  much  to  do  in  America,  with  various  en- 
gagements to  speak  at  professional  gatherings,  in 
learning  what  progress  American  dentistry  had  made 
since  my  last  visit  and  in  enjoying  the  society  of  old 
friends  and  of  beloved  members  of  my  family. 

Your  mother  sailed  from  America  in  February  1913, 
with  Nora  and  Leslie  and  our  precious  little  dog 
L.  E.  A.  L.,  as  we  wrote  his  name,  because  he  was  a 
gift  to  your  mother  from  the  lovely  Countess  Louisa 
Erdody,  aided  and  abetted  by  her  delightful  niece, 
Baroness  Anna  Lepel,  who  assisted  in  finding  the  most 
perfect  pet  dog  obtainable  in  Austria.  Countess  Er- 
dody had  been  my  patient  and  friend  for  more  than 
thirty  years.  She  had  come  to  know  your  mother  and 
to  be  much  attached  to  her,  for  she  was  a  gifted  wo- 
man, capable  of  appreciating  a  character  as  noble  as 
that  of  your  mother.  Some  of  the  most  delightful  rec- 
ollections of  our  residence  abroad  are  connected  with 
visits  which  I  made  to  her  at  Meran,  where  she  had  a 
beautiful  villa  in  the  hills  above  the  town.  Even  after 
I  had  given  up  practice,  I  still  continued  to  treat  her 
up  to  the  time  when  we  left  Europe  finally.  She  was  a 
woman  who  possessed  a  temperament  similar  to  that 
of  Grace  and  so  perhaps  we  could  understand  her  bet- 
ter than  many  of  her  friends.  Count  Berchthold  was 
her  husband's  nephew.  During  the  first  years  of  the 

(417) 


war  she  wrote  us  occasionally,  but  we  heard  nothing 
from  her  after  America  entered  the  war.  Their  prin- 
cipal estate  was  in  Croatia,  where  she  had  a  private 
hospital  which  she  carried  on  with  much  personal 
devotion  from  the  beginning  of  hostilities.  I  fear  the 
effects  of  the  terrible  strain  upon  her  shattered  consti- 
tution, for  she  suffered  much  from  nervous  ailments; 
but  she  will  always  remain  a  gracious  and  lovable  per- 
sonality in  our  recollections. 

She  once  told  me  that  this  private  hospital  had  been 
devoted  to  the  treatment  of  the  suffering  poor  and 
whenever  she  came  back  to  her  estate,  her  ill  health 
preventing  her  from  lengthy  residence  in  that  trying 
climate,  she  personally  cared  for  the  welfare  of  the 
patients  and,  to  her  innocent  surprise,  found  them  in- 
variably morose  and  ungrateful.  This  incapacity  to 
understand  the  natural  feeling  of  a  subject  race  I  have 
frequently  observed  among  Austrian  and  German  no- 
bility and,  indeed,  it  is  also  true  of  the  whole  German 
people,  who  cannot  understand  that  any  other  people 
should  seriously  not  desire  to  be  ruled  by  them.  Where, 
as  has  been  so  well  exemplified  in  Alsace,  they  find 
their  methods  of  government  resented,  they  remind 
one  of  the  father  of  Frederick  the  Great,  who,  when 
he  saw  a  Jew  seeking  to  avoid  him,  ran  after  him  and 
gave  him  a  sound  beating  with  his  cane,  saying:  "My 
people  shall  love  and  not  fear  me." 

(418  ) 


But  we  were  going  to  Naples,  not  to  Croatia.  Your 
mother  wanted  to  sail  with  Noles  and  the  dog,  since  I 
was  obliged  to  be  away  for  a  fortnight  and  she  wanted 
to  be  with  the  children  on  their  ship,  because  they 
were  both  such  good  sailors  and  she  could  also  be 
longer  with  them  and  help  them  off  for  Brindisi  after 
arrival  at  Naples.  So  off  she  went  to  the  East  and  I 
went  to — Chicago.  There  was  to  be  a  great  dinner 
given  to  my  dear  friend.  Dr.  Truman  Brophy,  who 
was  a  famous  surgeon  and  world-renowned  for  his 
original  operation  for  cleft  palate,  one  of  the  most 
brilHant  and  beneficent  advances  in  oral  surgery  in  all 
this  fruitful  generation  of  surgical  progress.  He  oper- 
ated preferably  upon  children  only  a  few  weeks  old, 
completely  correcting  these  deformities  so  that  they 
grew  up  normally  and  quite  undisfigured.  I  have  seen 
him  operate  in  America  and  also  in  various  countries 
of  Europe,  where  his  treatment  was  regarded  at  first 
incredulously,  but  afterward  adopted  with  enthusi- 
asm, except  where  some  ambitious  persons  unsuccess- 
fully attempted  to  improve  upon  it.  The  banquet  was 
a  delightful  and  well-arranged  function  and  it  was  a 
great  pleasure  and  honour  to  be  the  bearer  of  the  con- 
gratulations of  Brophy's  European  colleagues  and 
admirers. 

Upon  returning  to  the  East  I  soon  made  my  prepa- 
rations to  follow  your  mother  to  Naples.  The  evening 

(  419  ) 


before  sailing  I  had  invited  Leonard  and  lovely  Mary 
Grace  Owen,  whom  Leonard  had  greatly  admired  in 
his  youth  and  to  whom  he  was  married  the  following 
June,  to  dine  with  me  at  the  good  old  Brevoort  Hotel, 
at  which  your  mother  and  I  had  stayed  just  before  our 
first  journey  to  Europe.  They  called  for  me  at  the 
Lotos  Club  and  on  the  way  Leonard  said:  "  I  promised 
to  stop  at  the  Ritz  for  a  moment  where  one  of  your 
old  friends  wanted  to  speak  to  you."  Leonard  told  the 
chauffeur  to  wait  a  few  minutes  and  we  were  ushered 
into  a  waiting  room.  Presently  came  in  Herbert  and 
Eva  Brown,  followed  by  Emily  Hart  and  Marion.  It 
was  a  delightful  surprise  and  we  stayed  to  dine  with 
them  and  had  a  happy  evening  together.  They  in- 
sisted that  they  would  certainly  come  to  the  steamer 
the  next  morning  to  see  us  off  and  when  I  arrived, 
there  they  were.  I  observed  that  the  girls  seemed  to  be 
exploring  the  ship  with  much  interest  and  that  Her- 
bert and  Eva  seemed  rather  distraught,  so  a  little 
while  after,  as  the  whistle  blew  for  going  ashore,  I 
began  to  fear  that  Herbert  might  not  get  his  family 
together  in  time  and  expressed  my  anxiety  to  Eva, 
who  put  her  arms  about  me  and  said:  "Dear  Uncle 
Newell,  we  are  all  going  too!"  Surely  there  was  never 
an  innocent  old  uncle  so  delightfully  surprised  before, 
for  all  who  were  in  the  secret  had  been  warned  not  to 
divulge  it  to  me  and  they  kept  faith. 

(  420  ) 


To  make  the  party  complete,  Dr.  Brophy  with  his 
wife  and  Mrs.  Brophy's  beautiful  daughter  were  of 
our  company  and,  although  it  was  for  the  most  part 
rough  weather  until  after  passing  the  Azores,  it  was  an 
exceedingly  enjoyable  voyage  all  the  way.  It  was 
Marion's  first  ocean  trip  and  her  enjoyment  of  every 
strange  experience  and  the  gaiety  with  which  both 
girls  met  even  some  of  the  trying  incidents  of  a  stormy 
passage  cheered  us  all.  What  delightful  hours  I  passed 
with  Herbert  and  Eva !  We  talked  of  all  things  human 
and  divine  and  became  better  able  to  understand  each 
other,  after  having  had  such  different  experiences  of 
life,  in  pouring  out  our  souls  in  intimate  converse.  It 
is  one  of  the  sad  results  of  passing  all  one's  working 
life  in  a  foreign  land  to  find  in  one's  old  age  an  inca- 
pacity for  understanding  well  the  spiritual  life  of  one's 
own  country;  but  the  voyage  enabled  me  to  learn 
much  of  the  new  America  and  to  love  and  admire  more 
than  ever  Herbert  and  his  splendid  wife. 

At  Algiers  we  went  ashore,  although  it  was  already 
evening,  and  for  the  first  time  put  foot  on  African  soil. 
I  did  not  go  ashore  with  the  others,  but  followed  alone. 
Africa  had  always  appealed  strongly  to  my  imagina- 
tion. You  will  remember  our  family  joke  about  the 
advantages  of  being  Emperor  of  Morocco.  Going 
ashore  in  the  darkness  and  wandering  without  a  guide 
in  the  streets  of  Algiers,  dimly  perceiving  the  shrouded 

(  421  ) 


forms  moving  stealthily  in  the  narrow  streets,  coming 
suddenly  upon  groups  in  broader  and  better  lighted 
thoroughfares  sadly  upon  pleasure  bent,  hearing 
voices  conversing  or  calling  in  an  unknown  tongue, 
breathing,  under  a  black  velvet  dome,  an  atmosphere 
reeking  with  physical  and  spiritual  senses  of  the  mys- 
terious East  and  finally  dining  in  an  Algerian  cafe,  I 
had  a  fitting  introduction  to  the  continent  which  is 
the  last  to  begin  to  be  swayed  by  modern  civilization 
and  which  may  yet  be  the  first  to  respond  freely  to  its 
influence. 

At  Naples  I  parted  with  the  Browns  and  Brophys, 
who  were  going  to  Egypt,  and  was  welcomed  at  the 
landing  by  your  mother,  L.E.A.L.  and  Noles  (as 
your  mother  was  accustomed  to  call  Nora  and  Leslie 
mentioned  together).  It  was  a  glad  personal  reunion 
but  to  the  sound  of  a  mournful  tale  of  an  incredibly 
stormy  passage  which  they  had  experienced,  in  which 
Nora  had  been  thrown  out  of  her  berth  and  suffered 
various  contusions.  Naples  was  also  in  the  throes  of 
the  coldest  and  most  violent  storm  with  ice  and  snow 
everywhere  and  scanty  chance  for  keeping  warm  in 
hotels  designed  only  for  summer  weather. 

Presently  Noles  left  for  Brindisi,  on  their  way  to 
Smyrna,  and  we  went  for  a  short  time  to  Bertolini's, 
being  content  with  some  inconveniences  in  that  fa- 
mous inn  for  the  sake  of  the  superb  view. 

(  422  ) 


At  the  hotel  Bristol,  not  far  away,  we  found  our 
dear  old  friends  Geheimrat  and  Frau  Hempel.  The 
professor,  who  had  made  analyses  of  air  from  various 
altitudes  and  from  almost  every  part  of  the  world, 
was  now  engaged  in  collecting  air  from  the  glowing 
depths  of  Vesuvius.  One  result  of  the  eruption  of  1906 
had  been  to  demolish  the  slender  cone  out  of  the  point 
of  which  we  remembered,  at  our  last  visit  in  1879,  to 
have  seen  issuing  the  graceful  pillar  of  smoke  by  day 
and  of  fire  by  night.  It  was  a  disappointment  to  find 
the  famous  volcano  shorn  of  this  beautiful  pinnacle, 
which  was  replaced  by  a  broad,  uneven  and  altogether 
horrible  hole,  vomiting  mingled  smoke  and  steam  and 
seething  with  a  deep  lake  of  fire.  So  I  told  the  profes- 
sor that  of  course  he,  as  an  eminent  scientist,  could  do 
anything  he  pleased  and  I  begged  him,  since  he  had 
never  refused  to  do  anything  I  asked  of  him,  kindly 
to  restore  Vesuvius  to  its  former  symmetry.  He  re- 
pHed:  "Certainly,  with  great  pleasure,  but  you  must 
give  me  a  few  centuries  time." 

I  wish  to  record  here  how  much  I  admired  and  loved 
this  truly  great  and  lovable  man.  We  had  known  his 
charming  American  wife  before  her  marriage.  She  was 
a  member  of  the  distinguished  Monks  family  of  Bos- 
ton, representative  of  that  which  was  best  in  Ameri- 
can life  and  character,  and  her  marriage  into  an 
equally  distinguished  German  family  seemed  to  us  an 

(  423  ) 


ideal  alliance,  as  indeed  it  proved  to  be.  He  was  by- 
profession  a  chemist,  but  the  whole  field  of  science 
was  his  province.  Like  so  many  German  scientists  of 
his  generation,  he  retained,  with  all  his  learning,  a 
noble  simplicity  of  heart  and  manner.  In  the  work 
your  mother  was  doing  he  took  a  great  interest  and 
gave  us  both  much  valuable  advice  and  assistance,  as 
I  believe  I  have  mentioned  elsewhere. 

One  day  at  Naples,  when  we  were  taking  a  long 
walk  together,  I  spoke  to  him  seriously  about  the 
danger  into  which  I  feared  the  German  Government 
was  leading  the  German  people.  I  told  him  that  the 
recent  act  assessing  upon  property  a  tax  of  a  billion 
marks  for  the  alleged  purpose  of  building  defensive 
fortifications  on  the  eastern  frontier,  following  so 
shortly  after  the  great  increase  in  the  standing  army, 
had  aroused  suspicion  and  anxieties  among  thoughtful 
and  responsible  people  everywhere.  The  rule  of  the 
military  caste  was  becoming  more  strict  and  men  who 
saw  where  this  policy  must  inevitably  lead  would 
finally  advocate  a  league  of  all  the  world  against  Ger- 
many. At  this  he  was  manifestly  distressed,  but  en- 
deavoured to  make  light  of  it  and  explained  that  the 
military  preparations  were  only  to  make  Germany  so 
strong  that  no  nation  would  venture  to  attack  her. 

Then  I  reminded  him  of  the  provocation  of  Ger- 
many's attitude  toward  France,  through  which  she 

(  424  ) 


was  obliged  to  make  an  alliance  with  an  uncongenial 
government  like  that  of  Russia,  and  of  the  tone  of  the 
German  press,  which  had  been  for  years  engaged  in 
exciting  the  animosity  of  the  people  against  France, 
Russia  and  especially  England,  and  various  other 
signs  that  the  German  people  were  being  prepared  for 
an  aggressive  war.  But  most  of  this  he  either  did  not 
believe  or  thought  my  deductions  were  erroneous.  I 
am  citing  this  to  show  how  even  so  great  a  man  as 
Hempel,  who  knew  foreign  lands  far  better  than  the 
great  body  of  German  intellectuals,  was  oblivious  or 
indifferent  to  the  danger  with  which  the  whole  world 
and  Germany  herself  were  threatened. 

We  went  on  to  Rome  for  a  few  days  and  then  to 
Florence,  where,  on  March  21,  19 13,  occurred  the 
thirty-sixth  meeting  of  the  American  Dental  Society 
of  Europe.  This  was  a  truly  international  society.  It 
was  composed  of  American  dentists  practising  in 
Europe  and  of  foreign  dentists  who  were  graduates  of 
American  dental  schools.  It  was  not  only  a  scientific 
society,  but  it  had  also  some  of  the  qualities  of  a  club. 
Many  of  the  members  were  intimate  personal  friends 
and  all  of  them  were  professionally  well  acquainted, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  all  dentists  of  this  society  had 
practices  of  greater  or  less  international  character  and 
therefore  were  constantly  interchanging  patients.  The 
next  meeting,  at  Paris,  in  the  last  week  of  July  19 14, 

(  425  ) 


was  tragically  ended  by  the  breaking  out  of  the  war. 
Now,  with  the  exodus  of  nearly  all  American  practi- 
tioners from  Germany  and  the  universal  antagonisms 
aroused  by  the  world  conflict,  it  is  unlikely  that  in  my 
time  this  society  can  meet  again. 

We  had  a  delightful  meeting  in  Florence,  however, 
made  all  the  more  enjoyable  because  of  the  society  of 
Charles  and  Fanny,  with  whom  we  spent  all  our  spare 
time.  One  day  we  chanced  to  find  the  house  of  Profes- 
sorZacchardi  open  and  an  announcement  that  his  col- 
lection of  works  of  art  was  to  be  sold  at  auction.  It 
seemed  that  this  well-known  professor  of  art  had  died 
suddenly  and  it  was  necessary  to  sell  everything  at 
once  for  urgent  family  reasons.  There  had  been  no 
opportunity  to  advertise  the  sale.  Charles  and  Fanny 
knew  about  it,  but  it  was  not  generally  known.  Your 
mother  and  I  went  to  the  auction  and  became  much 
interested  in  the  sale,  attending  it  for  some  three  days. 
Finding  that  everything  was  being  sold  practically  to 
dealers  and  at  prices  seemingly  much  below  their  ac- 
tual value,  I  bought  a  number  of  them  and  had  them 
sent  to  Thorwald.  Some  were  antiques  but  there  were 
two  marble  busts  copied  from  the  well-known  por- 
traits of  Cicero  and  the  Young  Augustus,  which  I 
thought  so  well  done  that  I  was  glad  to  buy  them. 
There  were  also  two  large  pictures  of  dogs,  by  Pro- 
fessor Cecomi,  a  famous  painter  of  animals,  and  a 

(426) 


wonderful  great  aquarelle  of  a  Roman  chariot  with 
three  standing  figures,  a  man  and  two  women,  driving 
over  the  Campagna,  which  I  was  pleased  to  acquire, 
but  for  which  I  was  puzzled  to  find  room  when  I  got 
them  at  last  to  Thorwald.  The  latter  picture  was  listed 
in  the  catalogue:  Aquarelle^  la  Corsa del Cocchio:  Prof. 
Andreotti.  I  fear  none  of  you  children  will  have  room, 
nor  perhaps  have  much  desire  to  preserve  all  the  works 
of  art  which  we  have  come  to  possess  through  our  long 
residence  abroad,  but  each  of  them  has  for  us  a  senti- 
mental interest  which  we  cannot  expect  you  to  com- 
pletely share.  But  I  do  hope  that  we  may  outlast  the 
war  and  see  all  our  treasures  once  more  and  be  able  to 
make  such  disposition  of  them  as  seems  wise  and  best. 
In  the  autumn  of  19 13  Leonard  came  abroad  with 
sweet  Mary  Grace.  Their  marriage  had  brought  much 
happiness  to  them  both  and  it  was  an  event  coming 
to  France  and  Germany  together,  for  the  interests 
of  Kolynos  called  Leonard  to  Europe.  It  had  been 
decided  to  establish  a  company  in  Germany.  Max 
Weber,  a  German  who  had  some  commercial  and  dip- 
lomatic experience,  his  last  post  having  been  with  the 
German  Embassy  at  Washington,  was  taken  by  Leon- 
ard into  the  office  in  New  Haven  and  trained  by  him 
for  the  German  enterprise.  He  found  him  an  honour- 
able, intelligent  and  faithful  man,  who  proved  himself 
wholly  deserving  of  our  confidence  in  the  trying  days 

(  427  ) 


which  finally  came  in  the  great  upheaval  caused  by 
the  war. 

We  went  to  Berlin  to  meet  Leonard  and  Mary 
Grace  and  brought  them  for  a  pair  of  days  to  Thor- 
wald,  when  we  returned  with  them  to  Berlin.  We  re- 
mained there  long  enough  to  see  that  the  business  was 
going  well,  under  Leonard's  wise  direction  and  Web- 
er's enthusiastic  devotion,  and  then  went  on  to  Paris, 
as  usual,  where  Leonard  and  Mary  Grace  joined  us 
later.  Their  delight  in  accomplishing  the  purpose  of 
their  visit  both  in  France  and  Germany  and  in  enjoy- 
ing abundantly  the  pleasures  of  two  great  capitals 
remains  to  us  a  precious  memory.  Grace  and  Cavalie 
came  over  from  London,  where  Cavalie  was  manager 
of  the  British  Kolynos  Company  and  we  all  contrived 
to  be  together  as  much  as  possible.  The  business  out- 
look was  everywhere  favourable  and  I  looked  forward 
with  most  pleasing  anticipations  to  seeing  a  world- 
wide extension  of  the  enterprise  in  my  lifetime. 

The  winter  in  Paris  passed  as  delightfully  as  ever. 
As  the  time  approached  for  our  return  to  Thorwald, 
your  mother  preceded  me  to  get  everything  in  order 
as  soon  as  possible,  while  I  remained  in  Paris  to  finish 
writing  an  article  upon  a  professional  subject  on  which 
I  had  been  working  for  some  time,  and  for  some  other 
work  in  which  I  was  much  interested.  I  worked  dili- 
gently, being  impatient  to  rejoin  your  mother,  and 

(428  ) 


not  going  out  to  any  of  my  friends  until  one  evening, 
when  my  work  was  practically  done,  I  accepted  an 
invitation  from  the  Youngers  to  dine  with  them  at  a 
restaurant  they  had  recently  discovered,  to  which 
they  wished  to  introduce  me.  I  was  very  light  of  heart, 
for  I  could  now  hope  to  be  off  at  once  and  have  a  long 
season  at  Thorwald.  We  intended  to  be  absent  the  fol- 
lowing summer  in  America  and  to  celebrate  there  our 
golden  wedding.  So  I  had  a  merry  evening  with  the 
Youngers  and  their  party.  The  restaurant  was  all 
that  the  Youngers  pictured  it  to  be.  We  had  a  deli- 
cious dinner  in  a  social  atmosphere  which  was  some- 
what foreign  to  us  all  and  sat  a  long  time  at  table  in 
pleasant  conversation.  That  night  Paris  was  illumi- 
nated and  the  rest  of  the  party  wished  to  walk  about 
a  bit  and  I  reluctantly  went  with  them.  The  wind  was 
bitter  and  soon  I  was  so  chilled  that  I  took  a  taxi  and 
drove  to  the  hotel. 

After  practically  finishing  my  article,  I  went  to  bed 
and  fell  into  a  disturbed  sleep,  to  awake  in  a  burning 
fever,  with  a  racking  cough  which  was  soon  accom- 
panied by  hemorrhage.  I  rang  my  bell  several  times 
and  at  last  the  nightwatchman  came  and  I  ordered 
him  to  send  a  messenger  to  Dr.  Warden  and  ask  him 
to  come  to  me  at  once.  When  he  arrived,  I  told  him  I 
wanted  to  have  two  trained  nurses,  one  for  the  day 
and  one  for  the  night,  for  I  realized  the  attack  was 

(  429  ) 


serious,  feeling  sure  it  was  acute  pneumonia,  which 
examination  confirmed.  I  sent  also  for  my  friend,  Dr. 
Hirschfeld,  one  of  those  friends  to  whom  one  natu- 
rally turns  when  in  difficulties,  and  instructed  him 
how  to  telegraph  your  mother  that  she  might  not  be 
unduly  alarmed.  But  in  half  an  hour  after  she  received 
the  telegram  she  started  for  the  station,  gathering  up 
all  the  money  there  was  in  the  house,  for  there  was  no 
time  to  go  to  the  bank,  left  the  Georges  in  charge  and 
reached  Berlin  in  time  to  catch  the  night  train  for 
Paris,  and  appeared  at  my  bedside  the  next  morning 
accompanied  by  Hirschfeld,  who  had  gone  to  the  sta- 
tion to  meet  her. 

You  all  know  how  wonderful  your  dear  mother  is 
at  all  times  but  how  especially  clear-minded  and  re- 
sourceful she  is  in  emergencies.  From  the  first  moment 
I  had  no  further  anxieties,  being  sure  that  neither  doc- 
tor nor  nurse  would  err  in  judgement  or  relax  in  atten- 
tion. Everybody  was  kind  and  considerate.  My  Pari- 
sian friends  were  lavish  of  attentions  and  sympathy. 
Dear  Miss  Scofield,  the  accomplished  and  capable 
proprietor  of  the  Hotel  d'Jena,  where  we  had  stayed 
so  many  years — she  who  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war 
came  to  America,  where  she  raised,  as  Mr.  Joseph 
Choate  told  me,  four  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  the 
relief  of  French  orphans — was  indefatigable  in  kind 
words  and  deeds;  but  I  owed  my  rapid  recovery  chiefly 

(  430  ) 


to  the  watchful  care,  the  courage  and  the  precious 
society  of  your  beloved  mother.  It  was  only  in  early 
July,  however,  that  I  could  return  toThorwald  and  that 
event  was  made  sombre  by  the  tragedy  of  the  assassin- 
ation of  the  Archduke  Franz  Ferdinand  and  his  wife 
on  June  28, 1914,  at  Serajevo,  just  before  we  left  Paris. 

We  arrived  to  meet  almost  immediately  Noles,  who 
came  from  the  East  to  make  us  their  annual  visit. 
Your  Aunt  Georgie  had  seen  to  having  the  house 
put  in  admirable  order  for  our  return.  In  the  previous 
year  I  had  had  the  house  considerably  improved,  es- 
pecially in  regard  to  its  heating  and  lighting  which 
was  designed  to  be  as  complete  as  practicable  in  case 
illness  or  war  should  oblige  us  to  remain  at  any  time 
during  the  winter.  Now  we  returned  to  find  both  house 
and  grounds  in  better  order  than  ever  and,  after  so 
much  wandering  and  illness,  we  were  much  inclined  to 
enjoy  our  beautiful  home  to  the  utmost. 

For  several  years  Leslie  and  Nora  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  spend  about  three  months  with  us  in  the 
spring  and  summer  and  we  were  looking  forward  to 
their  visit  this  year  with  especial  interest  and  pleasure. 
They  were  returning  from  a  visit  to  Sardis.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  and  important  archaeological  works 
in  which  Americans  had  been  engaged  was  at  this 
ancient  capital  of  Lydia.  Professor  Butler,  of  Prince- 
ton, who  had  been  at  the  head  of  the  American  expe- 

(43>  ) 


dition  toSardis  had  paid  Leslie  the  well-deserved  com- 
pliment of  asking  him  to  take  over  the  work  of  the 
expedition,  since  he  needed  leisure  to  complete  the 
records  of  the  work  which  had  already  been  done 
under  his  direction.  Leslie  and  Nora  had,  therefore, 
been  spending  much  of  the  winter  at  Sardis.  They  had 
previously  been  doing  work  at  Loryma,  where  Leslie 
had  obtained  a  concession  from  the  Turkish  Govern- 
ment to  excavate,  and  their  experience,  not  only  with 
the  practical  work  but  also  with  the  complicated  ways 
of  dealing  with  official  and  non-official  Orientals,  had 
prepared  them  for  a  greater  undertaking. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  much  interest  and  pleasure 
that  I  heard  that  the  members  of  the  staff  of  the  ex- 
pedition had  promised  to  go  on  with  their  work  under 
Leslie's  management  and  that  all  the  conditions  were 
as  favourable  as  could  be  desired.  For  the  first  time  in 
my  career,  I  felt  free  from  business  anxieties.  We  could 
hope  for  a  reasonable  period  of  time  in  which  to  share 
our  children's  tasks  and  pleasures.  We  were  leading  an 
ideal  life,  devoid  of  serious  cares  and  full  of  pleasant 
prospects  for  us  all.  The  work  of  Leslie  and  Nora 
greatly  appealed  to  me,  for  I  had,  in  early  manhood, 
felt  the  fascination  of  the  East  and  I  looked  forward 
to  spending  a  winter  with  them  at  Smyrna  and  Sardis. 
In  the  midst  of  these  happy  conditions  and  anticipa- 
tions hell  broke  loose. 

(  432  ) 


Of  all  men  I  ought  least  to  have  been  taken  by  sur- 
prise.* I  had  seen  the  gradual  Prussianizing  of  the 
German  people.  I  knew  how  wide-spread  were  the  in- 
trigues of  the  German  Government.  I  had  seen  the 
effect  of  modern  materialistic  philosophy  and  of  the 
growth  of  luxury  always  attending  sudden  material 
prosperity,  upon  the  character  of  the  German  people. 
I  saw  how  cleverly  the  schools,  the  universities,  the 
Lutheran  church  and  the  press  were  being  used  to 
teach  the  people  that  they  were  indeed  supermen  and 
that  the  hegemony  of  Europe  and  finally  of  the  world 
was  their  rightful  heritage.  For  a  period  of  some 
twenty  years  I  could  not  recall  a  single  instance  of  a 
kind  or  generous  word  in  the  German  press  regarding 
any  non-German  people.  And  yet,  I  could  scarcely 
believe — since  Germany  had  reached  such  a  pinnacle 
of  prosperity,  her  commerce  extending  to  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth,  her  trade  penetrating  even 
the  most  distant  lands,  her  industries  flourishing  to  an 
undreamed  of  development  both  in  mass  and  quahty 
until  the  words,  "made  in  Germany"  had  come  to  be 
a  commendation  rather  than  a  reproach — that  all  this 
would  be  put  in  jeopardy  by  an  aggressive  war,  for 
which  the  military  caste  had  clamoured  and  intrigued 
ad  nauseam. 

Also,  as  I  have  mentioned  before,  I  felt  that  the 

*See  Appendix,  note  12. 

(  433  ) 


German  Government  would  not  venture  upon  so  vast 
an  enterprise  without  being  secure  of  the  support  of 
Austria-Hungary,  and  that  support  had  been  refused 
for  a  war  of  aggression.  But  upon  the  first  shock  of  the 
assassination  of  the  Archduke  and  his  wife,  poor 
Sophia  Chotek,  whom  I  had  known  in  her  childhood, 
I  feared  that  Germany  would  make  it  a  cause  of  war. 


I9I4  Chapter  Twenty-one  1915 

IT  chanced  that  I  knew  the  history  of  the  appoint- 
ment of  Herr  von  Tschirschky  to  the  post  of  Ger- 
man Ambassador  to  Vienna.  His  father  was  the  presi- 
dent of  the  Saxon  railroad  system,  an  able  and  much 
respected  official.  His  younger  sister,  a  woman  of 
noble  and  kindly  character,  married  Count  Vitzthum, 
who  became  Prime  Minister  of  Saxony.  Herr  von 
Tschirschky  entered  the  diplomatic  service  and  had 
been  secretary  at  St.  Petersburg  and  at  Bucharest. 
The  Emperor  took  a  great  fancy  to  him  and  had  him 
made  Prussian  Minister  to  Hamburg,  which  post  he 
filled  for  several  years.  He  became  familiar  with  the 
Emperor's  secret  plans  and  wishes,  for  he  was  fre- 
quently called  to  Berlin  and  every  summer  he  was 
with  the  Emperor  on  his  journey  to  Norway.  Finally, 
to  the  surprise  of  the  diplomatic  world,  he  was  ap- 
pointed Ambassador  to  Vienna.  It  excited  astonish- 
ment, because  this  position,  in  many  respects  the  most 
important  to  both  empires,  would  naturally  be  filled 
either  by  a  great  nobleman,  like,  for  instance.  Prince 
Reuss,  who  for  so  many  years  was  Ambassador  to 
Vienna  after  having  been  Ambassador  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, or  a  man  of  less  social  prominence  who  had 
had  wide  experience  in  high  positions  in  the  service 

(435) 


and  had  earned  promotion  to  such  a  post  by  sheer 
ability. 

Now  Herr  von  Tschirschky  was  a  quiet,  somewhat 
reticent  man,  his  taciturnity  seeming  attributable  to 
his  ill  health;  but  I  am  convinced  he  knew  the  Em- 
peror's inmost  thoughts  and  wishes,  and  when  the 
ferocious  ultimatum  to  Serbia  was  published,  I  felt 
that  the  will  of  the  Emperor  would  be  fulfilled,  wheth- 
er he  was  in  Norway  or  at  Potsdam.  When  the  secret 
history  of  the  time  is  written,  it  will  be  plain  why  von 
Tschirschky  was  sent  to  Vienna  and  it  would  not  be 
surprising  if  that  history  should  reveal  his  hand  in  the 
very  wording  of  the  ultimatum  of  July  3,  which  was 
followed,  notwithstanding  the  submissive  reply  of 
Serbia,  by  Austria's  declaration  of  war  on  July  28. 

The  Archduke  had  been  assassinated  on  June  28, 
but  it  was  only  during  the  last  week  in  July  that  it 
became  certain  that  the  event  was  to  be  made  the 
pretext  for  the  most  wicked,  savage  and  unjustifiable 
war  of  all  time. 

I  should  have  known  that  this  outbreak  was  in- 
evitable, but  to  the  last  I  was  the  victim  of  my  in- 
veterate optimism.  Besides,  it  was  with  me,  as  with 
nearly  all  the  members  of  the  true  Anglo-Saxon  race, 
inconceivable  that  this  great  outrage  against  the 
rights  of  mankind  should  actually  be  undertaken  in  a 
time  when,  to  all  appearances,  constitutional  govern- 

(436) 


ment  was  in  the  way  of  supplanting  absolutism  every- 
where. We  had  heard  the  ranting  of  the  German  Em- 
peror and  regarded  it  as  the  raving  of  a  madman  in- 
toxicated with  dreams  of  military  glory.  Were  not 
half  the  people  of  the  Empire  in  a  spirit  of  revolt  ?  Was 
not  Austria  a  wholly  artificial  state,  destined  to  fall 
asunder  when  Franz  Josef  passed  away?  Did  not  the 
British-French-Russian  Entente  stand  in  the  way? 
What  folly  even  for  a  state  so  rich  and  powerful  as 
Germany  to  risk  a  war  which  must  meet  with  such 
opposition  at  home  as  well  as  excite  the  abhorrence  of 
all  the  civilized  world ! 

Besides  all  this,  your  mother  and  I  had  experienced, 
from  the  first  day  we  arrived  in  Germany,  only  per- 
sonal kindness  from  all  the  Germans  we  came  to  know. 
For  nearly  half  a  century  we  had  seen  chiefly  the 
amiable  side  of  the  German  character.  We  had  formed 
warm  friendships  among  all  classes  and  felt,  to  the 
full,  the  charm  of  a  society  kindly,  intelligent,  ideal- 
istic and  hospitable,  which  never  ceased  to  be  enter- 
taining, even  when  now  and  then  it  was  unsympa- 
thetic. Our  first  impressions  remained  indelible,  al- 
though we  could  not  be  insensible  to  the  growing  in- 
fluence of  Prussia  even  among  our  own  dear,  kindly 
Saxons.  I  knew  the  scientists  of  my  early  days,  before 
German  thought  had  been  radically  afi^ected  by  the 
modern  materialistic  philosophy.  They  were  men  not 

(  437  ) 


to  be  simply  admired,  but  also  to  be  loved.  You  chil- 
dren were  born  in  Germany  and  knew  how,  despite 
your  ardent  Americanism,  Germany  was  a  country 
peculiarly  delightful  for  child  life. 

I  felt  then,  I  feel  now,  that  this  idealistic  Germany 
is  destined  to  survive  and  that  our  children  will  see  it 
yet  triumph  over  the  paganism  which  has  brought  such 
misery  to  all  the  world  and  not  least  to  Germany  itself. 

The  fateful  last  week  in  July,  1914,  was  full  of  ter- 
rible experiences.  To  my  horror  I  saw,  almost  without 
exception,  the  whole  people,  like  hounds  straining  at 
the  leash,  fearful  not  of  war,  but  that  their  govern- 
ment might  again  disappoint  them  and  not  let  them 
loose  to  rush  upon  their  prey.  They  had  so  long  been 
taught  to  hate  their  neighbours  that  they  had  learned 
the  lesson  well  and  when  it  was  known  that  Great 
Britain  had  declared  war,  on  August  4,  the  people 
went  mad  with  rage.  I  did  not  see  a  single  German 
who  could  understand  that  the  action  of  England  was 
the  inevitable  result  of  the  invasion  of  Belgium.  To 
them  it  was  only  a  confirmation  of  their  conviction  of 
England's  hypocrisy  and  treachery.  Dear  Frau  Pro- 
fessor Hempel,  who,  like  many  American  women  mar- 
ried to  Germans,  was  more  German  than  the  natives 
themselves,  in  the  full  tide  of  her  indignation  asked 
me,  why  England  didn't  attack  Germany  when  she 
was  at  peace ! 

(438 ) 


I  had  seen  the  mobilization  of  1870,  at  which  all  the 
world  wondered,  but  it  was  like  an  informal  and  casual 
rehearsal  compared  to  that  of  19 14.  Millions  of  men 
sprang  to  arms  at  the  stamp  of  the  Prussian  foot.  Al- 
ready masses  of  troops  had  been,  as  secretly  as  pos- 
sible, sent  to  the  frontier,  but  on  Saturday,  August  i, 
the  formal  order  was  given  and  the  entire  nation  was 
found  more  than  ready.  Even  small  children  imitated 
their  elders  and  those  who  were  too  young  to  join 
the  boy  scouts  abandoned  all  other  sports  to  play  at 
being  soldiers.  The  system  seemed  perfect,  embracing 
in  its  rigid  discipline  every  employment  tributary  to 
the  army,  as,  for  instance,  the  railroad  service,  where 
every  employe  knew  his  place  and  was  instantly  ready 
to  do  his  part  in  transporting  the  troops  wherever 
they  were  ordered.  All  the  horses  in  the  country  had 
been  classified  during  every  year  of  peace  and  it  was 
therefore  possible  to  requisition  those  best  fitted  for 
service.  They  were  brought  in,  to  any  of  the  many 
centres  where  they  were  wanted,  in  prodigious  num- 
bers, but  without  confusion  or  lack  of  provender  and 
attendance.  One  would  scarcely  have  thought  there 
were  so  many  horses  in  all  Saxony  as  were  assembled 
in  Dresden  alone  and  this  went  on  all  over  the  Empire. 
The  army  immediately  appeared  in  the  new  blue-grey 
field  uniform,  which  was  then  publicly  seen  for  the 
first  time.  The  men  were  shod  with  russet  tan  boots 

(  439  ) 


and  the  whole  effect  of  the  equipment  was  that  of 
being  the  result  of  the  most  careful  regard  for  effi- 
ciency. I  wrote  at  the  time  in  my  diary:  "The  order  of 
a  perfect  military  system  prevails.  Never  before  was 
so  vast  and  complete  an  army  mobilized  with  such 
seeming  lack  of  effort.  It  moves  like  a  piece  of  ma- 
chinery. It  produces  the  impression  of  being  hke  a 
newly  discovered  but  irresistible  force  of  nature,  re- 
lentless, overwhelming." 

The  enthusiasm  and  confidence  of  the  people  knew 
no  bounds.  They  calculated  upon  a  military  parade  to 
Paris  and  before  the  first  blow  was  struck  they  were 
busy  in  deciding  how  much  of  France  should  be  left  to 
Frenchmen.  There  were  those  who  would  take  not  only 
northern  France  and  Belgium,  but  also  go  to  the  Med- 
iterranean and  leave  to  France  only  some  13,000,000 
population,  and  this  they  regarded  as  generosity. 
Never,  never  should  democratic  France  stand  in  their 
way  again.  Then,  when  France  was  conquered,  they 
would  leave  a  force  of  750,000  men  to  hold  them  in 
subjection,  turn  with  their  own  invincible  army  and 
with  the  Austrians  upon  barbarous  Russia  and  make 
an  end  of  her  forever.  They  would  then  be  able  to  con- 
quer England  at  their  leisure,  take  her  colonies,  ruin 
her  commerce  and  bind  all  of  continental  Europe 
which  had  not  become  German  in  a  Zollverein  which 
Germany  should  dominate.  It  seemed  like  raving 

(  440  ) 


madness,  but  it  was  real  to  them.  When  I  told  some 
of  my  German  friends  it  was  dangerous  to  despise 
their  enemies,  they  laughed  at  me.  The  Kaiser  himself 
promised  the  soldiers  that  the  war  would  be  over  be- 
fore the  fall  of  the  leaf,  at  first,  and  then  extended  the 
time  until  Christmas. 

Needless  to  say  this  enthusiasm  was  shared  by  the 
army.  Early  and  late,  as  troops  marched  by  Thor- 
wald,  going  or  returning  from  training,  they  were 
never  too  tired  to  sing.  Their  repertoire  of  Soldaten 
Lieder  is  great  and  but  for  the  unrighteousness  of  their 
cause,  their  singing  would  have  been  sublime;  but  as 
it  was,  it  often  caused  us  to  shudder.  So  sure  were  they 
of  an  early  and  complete  victory,  that  boys  under 
military  age  were  eagerly  volunteering,  fearing  the 
war  would  be  over  before  they  could  have  part  in  it. 

From  the  earliest  days  of  the  invasion  of  Belgium, 
rumours  of  atrocities  were  circulated  among  the  Saxon 
people,  carried  in  letters  from  the  front.  Despite  the 
fact  that  we  knew  of  the  writings  of  German  philoso- 
phers and  military  men  advising  cruelty  in  war  as  a 
justifiable  method  of  securing  the  prompt  submission 
of  their  enemies,  we  regarded  these  incitements  to 
savagery  as  being  so  monstrous  that  they  could  not 
be  taken  seriously  in  our  time,  for  the  last  interna- 
tional Congress  to  regulate  the  horrors  of  war  was 
only  seven  years  past.  But  at  last  the  facts  which 

(  441  ) 


came  to  light  and  the  vindictive  temper  of  the  Ger- 
man press  and  of  the  German  people  convinced  us 
that  the  nation  we  had  admired  and  loved  had  fallen 
into  the  moral  abyss  their  rulers  had  prepared  for 
them. 

Even  to  this  day  I  cannot  understand  how  the  Ger- 
man people  could  have  been  so  blind  as  to  give  them- 
selves body  and  soul  to  the  control  of  the  military 
caste,  at  the  head  of  which  stood  their  mad  Emperor. 
In  the  beginning  of  his  reign  they  jeered  at  him,  but 
pride  and  self-interest  were  so  strongly  appealed  to 
that  they  began  to  share  their  ruler's  dream  of  univer- 
sal dominion,  which  had  a  peculiar  fascination  for  a 
people  addicted  to  bullying,  and  then  all  else  was  easy. 
But  the  most  amazing  feature  was  that  the  people 
could  have  been  so  completely  deluded.  They  were 
the  most  generally  and  systematically  educated  peo- 
ple in  the  world  and  yet  they  were  the  most  unintelli- 
gent. Both  the  people  and  the  government  entirely 
misunderstood  the  temper  and  character  of  all  other 
peoples. 

All  Germany  knew  that  their  government  had  been 
preparing  them  to  fall  upon  their  neighbours  at  some 
convenient  time  and  rob  them  of  lives,  territory  and 
wealth,  and  yet,  when  the  moment  at  last  arrived, 
they  actually  seemed  to  believe  that  the  war  was 
thrust  upon  them.  No  non-German  can  comprehend 

(  442  ) 


this  astounding  self-illusion,  but  that  it  was  genuine  I 
am  fully  convinced.  I  went  about  repeating  to  myself, 
"whom  the  gods  would  destroy  they  first  make  mad." 
They  spoke  of  this  horrible  outburst  of  accumulated 
hate,  envy,  greed,  malice,  ambition  and  calculated 
fiendishness  as  "a  holy  war,"  and  so  indeed  it  was,  but 
only  on  the  side  of  those  who  resisted  them. 

One  evening  I  saw  Frau  Pastor  Schmidt  on  the 
Schiller  Strasse  just  as  I  was  coming  out  of  the  Thor- 
wald  gate,  and  at  once  accosted  her  to  inquire  about 
her  husband,  whom  I  knew  to  be  in  frail  health.  She 
told  me  all  his  assistants  were  in  the  army  and  he  was 
overburdened  with  work  in  the  four  rural  parishes 
which  were  then  under  his  sole  charge;  but,  she  added, 
they  were  being  upheld  by  a  great  hope.  They  be- 
lieved the  influence  of  materialistic  philosophy,  which 
had  long  held  the  German  mind  in  thrall,  was  passing, 
under  the  discipline  of  the  war,  and  they  believed  the 
German  people  were  returning  to  the  simple  faith  of 
Luther  and  the  God  of  their  fathers.  I  assured  her  that 
L  was  much  pleased  to  hear  this  but  ventured  to  re- 
mind her  that  this  was  not  the  only  instance  of  the 
revival  of  religion  as  a  result  of  the  war.  In  France  and 
in  England  the  same  turning  to  seek  the  consolation 
of  the  Christian  faith  was  visible.  Her  kindly  and 
gentle  speech  instantly  changed  in  expression  and 
tone.  ''England!  England!''  she  exclaimed,  ''wenn  wir 

(  443  ) 


nur  siebzig  Zeppelins  nach  England  schicken  konnten 
um  London  zu  vernichtenf'  ("If  we  only  could  send 
seventy  Zeppelins  to  England  to  destroy  London!") 

I  think  none  of  you  knew  my  friend,  Dr.  Rose.  He 
had  been  a  professor  at  Freiberg.  He  became  an  ad- 
mirer and  friend  of  our  dear  Miller  and  tried  to  pat- 
tern after  him  in  his  scientific  work.  I  served  with  him 
on  the  committee  for  raising  an  international  Miller 
memorial  fund,  to  confer  a  gold  medal  and  a  prize  in 
money  at  stated  periods,  and  came  to  know  him  well. 
He  was  very  deaf  and,  like  many  who  suffer  from  this 
infirmity,  suspicious  and  irritable;  but  I  got  on  with 
him  famously  and  saved  him  from  the  effects  of  nu- 
merous misunderstandings. 

Sometime  after  the  war  broke  out  he  was  passing 
through  Dresden  on  his  way  to  Munich,  where  he  was 
carrying  on  some  experiments  in  nutrition.  Hearing 
that  I  had  been  ill,  he  stopped  over  and  came  out  to 
Thorwald  to  visit  me.  Almost  instantly  he  plunged 
into  the  discussion  of  the  war  and  wanted  to  know, 
like  every  other  German,  why  the  American  Govern- 
ment did  not  prevent  American  manufacturers  from 
selling  war  supplies  to  the  enemies  of  Germany.  The 
invariable  answer  was  invariably  incomprehensible. 
At  last  he  told  us  of  a  letter  he  had  just  received  from 
his  son,  who  was  among  the  first  German  troops  in 
Belgium.  The  young  man  wrote  that  in  a  Belgian  vil- 

(  444  ) 


lage  it  was  reported  to  the  soldiers  of  his  regiment  that 
one  of  their  wounded  officers  had  had  his  eyes  put  out 
by  a  sixteen-year-old  Belgian  girl.  They  at  once 
rounded  up  all  the  men  of  the  village, — there  were  1 60 
of  them, — and  held  the  accused  girl  while  they  shot 
these  villagers  one  by  one,  obliging  her  to  witness  their 
vengeance — and  then  they  shot  the  girl.  Rose's  com- 
ment was:  "They  ought  to  have  torn  her  to  pieces." 
I  was  so  shocked  at  the  story,  and  the  comment  of  my 
old  friend  whose  whole  life  had  been  passed  in  benefi- 
cent work  and  scientific  research,  and  was  still  so  weak 
from  my  recent  illness,  that  I  had  to  excuse  myself, 
and  when  I  was  able  to  return,  he  was  gone. 

But  poor  Rose's  nemesis  was  terrible.  In  the  year 
191 5  he  wrote  me,  in  a  pathetic  letter,  of  the  death  of 
his  son.  The  promising  young  man,  who  his  father 
had  hoped  would  be  a  scientist,  like  himself,  had  died 
in  hospital  at  Erfurth.  The  father  was  called  to  see 
him  and,  upon  examination,  found  him  hopelessly  ill 
with  general  tuberculosis.  For  six  months  he  left  his 
work  at  Munich,  keeping  as  cheerful  a  countenance  as 
possible,  and  not  venturing  to  tell  his  wife  that  their 
son  was  doomed.  The  boy  had  fallen  a  victim  to  his 
sense  of  duty  in  remaining  in  the  trenches  for  days 
when  so  ill  that  he  ought  to  have  been  in  the  hospital 
and  he  could  have  been  sent  to  the  rear  at  a  word, 
which  he  never  spoke.  When  the  end  came  and  the 

(  445  ) 


burial  occurred,  two  French  prisoners,  who  were  em- 
ployed in  the  cemetery,  seeing  it  was  a  mihtary  funer- 
al, came  and  saluted  as  the  body  was  lowered  into  the 
grave.  Rose  then  went  to  them  and  thanked  the  gen- 
erous enemies  who  showed  honour  to  a  brave  foe  and 
wrote  me  of  the  occurrence  with  the  request  that  I 
should  inform  two  eminent  French  colleagues  and  ex- 
press to  them  his  hope  that  there  would  be  a  reconcili- 
ation after  the  war  was  over.  But  I  have  reason  to 
believe  this  advance  was  not  welcome. 

The  stories  of  outrages  perpetrated  upon  wounded 
Germans  by  Belgians  finally  came  under  suspicion 
and  especially  those  of  malicious  blinding.  After  one 
of  the  terrible  appeals  of  the  intrepid  Cardinal  Mer- 
cier,  whose  burning  words  have  stirred  all  generous 
hearts  throughout  the  world,  the  Bavarian  Katho- 
lische  Verein  published  the  results  of  their  investiga- 
tions, which  seemed  to  confirm  the  Belgian  contention 
that  these  reports  were  generally  false  and  circulated 
with  the  intent  to  excite  the  German  soldiers  to  com- 
mit outrages  to  which  otherwise  they  would  be  averse, 
but  which  were  regarded  as  necessary  for  the  purpose 
of  terrorizing  the  conquered  people. 

On  August  i8  I  went  to  lunch  with  Baroness  Kas- 
kel,  who  was  at  her  summer  residence,  which  you  will 
remember,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Elbe,  opposite  the 
Waldschlosschen  and  next  to  the  Vogelwiese.  She 

(446) 


wanted  to  speak  to  me  about  a  treatment  which  she 
wished  to  have  carried  on  by  Dr.  McBride  under  my 
advice,  but  I  suspected  that  she  also'  wanted  to  talk 
about  the  war.  You  know  she  was  the  daughter  of  the 
famous  Cologne  banker,  Oppenheim,  of  whom  the 
story  of  how  he  signed  a  hotel  register  in  Switzerland 
is  good  enough  to  be  true.  It  seems  that  when  there 
was  to  be  a  meeting  of  great  bankers  in  Switzerland, 
the  landlord  wanted  to  secure  the  autographs  of  his 
distinguished  guests  in  a  separate  register.  All  the 
Rothschilds  were  present  and  when  the  book  was 
brought  to  the  rooms  of  Oppenheim,  they  had  already, 
with  fine  astuteness,  signed  only  with  an  initial,  as: 
R.  de  Londres,  R.  de  Paris,  R.  de  Francfort,  R.  de 
Vienne.  Oppenheim  followed  suit  with  O.  de  Cologne. 

Baroness  Kaskel  had  been  my  patient  from  my 
early  practice  in  Dresden  and  had  shown  me  much 
kindness.  I  greatly  admired  her  courage  of  her  opin- 
ions and  her  quick  way  of  expressing  them.  She  knew 
her  own  world  and  ordered  her  own  affairs  after  the 
death  of  her  accomplished  husband  and,  for  aught  I 
know,  also  before  that  sad  event,  with  great  compe- 
tence. 

Of  course  she  did  talk  about  the  war  and  her  point 
of  view  was  interesting.  She  asked  me  why  England 
should  have  declared  war.  I  reminded  her  of  the 
treaty  of  1839,  through  which  the  great  powers  and 

(  447  ) 


among  them  Prussia,  had  guaranteed  the  integrity 
and  inviolability  of  Belgium,  and  which  was  later  con- 
firmed by  Imperial  Germany.  I  also  tried  to  explain 
why  this  was  a  question  of  vital  interest  to  Great 
Britain,  who,  as  well  as  France,  could  not  endure 
having  Belgium  occupied  by  a  great  military  power  of 
avowed  unfriendliness.  But  she  was  much  surprised, 
regarding  it  as  preposterous  that  such  a  treaty  should 
be  made  and,  if  made,  equally  absurd  that  any  one 
should  be  expected  to  keep  it.  She  also  expressed  her 
astonishment  that  the  King  of  England  could  have 
visited  the  German  Emperor  and  been  so  well  received 
and  yet  have  permitted  a  declaration  of  war  to  be 
made  against  Germany. 

She  told  me,  as  if  it  were  a  secret,  that  Germany 
would  strike  first  at  France  with  overwhelming  force, 
and  then  turn  upon  Russia  in  perfect  assurance,  for 
the  Russian  army  was  discontented  and  ill-equipped, 
so  it  couldn't  be  expected  to  fight  well  and  that  it  was 
for  this  reason  that  the  Emperor  was  willing  to  have 
the  war  come  now,  and  that  in  the  same  breath  with 
asserting  that  the  war  was  forced  upon  Germany.  It 
seemed  as  if  I  could  hear  in  these  words  the  tone  of  the 
sixteen  members  of  her  family  who  were  in  the  mili- 
tary service.  Her  daughter  was  at  that  moment  lying 
ill  in  her  house,  while  her  husband,  one  of  the  von 
Arnims,  had  gone  to  the  war. 

(448  ) 


Her  immediate  grief  was  that  her  three  carriage 
horses,  each  of  which  had  cost  her  over  two  thousand 
marks,  had  been  taken  for  the  war  and  she  had  only  a 
promise  that  eventually  the  Government  would  give 
her  a  thousand  marks  for  one  and  eight  hundred 
apiece  for  the  others.  It  seemed  to  me  that,  as  govern- 
ments go  in  Europe,  this  was  all  that  could  have  been 
expected,  but  I  was  truly  sorry  for  her  brother,  Baron 
Oppenheim.  He  had  been  an  ambitious  sportsman, 
having  long  had  a  great  racing  stable  and  only  in  this 
year  was  he  getting  his  return  in  winning  all  the  races, 
domestic  and  international,  with  a  wonderful  horse  of 
meteoric  fame;  for  now  his  whole  stud,  including  this 
winner,  was  being  taken  for  the  army.  As  I  was  leav- 
ing she  detained  me  for  a  little,  to  ask  me  what  I 
thought  would  be  the  issue  of  the  war  and  I  parried 
by  answering  that  I  thought  nothing  could  resist  the 
first  onset  of  the  splendid  German  army.  At  this  she 
seemed  comforted,  but  said:  "If  we  do  not  win,  we 
shall  be  ruined."  How  often  in  the  course  of  this  awful 
conflict  I  have  recalled  these  words,  the  natural  ex- 
pression of  one  who  had  great  financial  interests  at 
stake  and  who,  not  knowing  the  reason  for  this  ter- 
rible convulsion,  could  only  blindly  feel  that  her  fam- 
ily and  fortune  were  helpless  pawns  in  the  hands  of  an 
inscrutable  Fate,  playing  with  unimaginable  forces. 

I  took  my  way  homeward  over  the  Vogelwiese.  The 

(  449  ) 


war  cloud  burst  just  as  the  usual  medley  of  delightful 
showmen  and  wandering  vagabonds  of  all  sorts  had 
gathered  for  this  ancient  festival  of  the  cross  bow;  in- 
teresting not  only  for  itself,  but  also  because  of  being 
a  survival  of  the  Middle  Ages  system  of  guilds,  when 
the  ordinary  burghers  so  steadfastly  clung  to  their 
scanty  allowance  of  opportunity  to  assert  the  privi- 
leges of  their  class.  Doubtless  it  would  have  perished 
long  ago,  but  for  its  picturesqueness  and  because  it 
could  be  used  as  teaching  the  lesson  of  the  necessary 
union  between  rulers  and  ruled  in  order  to  preserve 
the  state.  It  was  always  the  King  who  shot  the  first 
arrow  and  then  other  dignitaries  took  a  shot,  until  at 
last  the  ordinary  citizens  who  were  members  of  the 
guild  came  in  for  their  turn. 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  number  of  showmen  with 
their  paraphernalia  who  were  stranded  for  loss  of  their 
horses  and  other  methods  of  transportation,  for  from 
the  first  moment  the  railroads  were  taken  for  the 
service  of  the  army.  I  went  about  among  them  and 
listened  to  their  various  tales  of  woe.  War  had  been 
declared  only  a  little  over  two  weeks  ago  and  already 
there  was  great  difficulty  in  getting  food  for  their 
animals,  particularly  for  the  carnivora.  Vainly  had 
they  offered  them  to  the  Dresden  Zoo  at  ^^spotbillige 
Preise'  ("cheap  as  dirt")  and  were  now  willing  to  part 
from  them  on  any  terms.  There  was  a  most  beautiful 

(  450  ) 


lioness,  young  but  full  grown  and  choicely  kept  in  a 
splendid  and  capacious  cage,  whose  woman  keeper, 
seeing  I  admired  the  creature,  begged  me  to  take  her, 
upon  any  condition,  cage  and  all,  for  otherwise  she 
feared  the  poor,  petted  beast  must  be  killed.  When  I 
came  back  to  Thorwald,  I  told  your  mother  of  the 
lioness.  She  had  always  been  fond  of  cats,  but  in  her 
devotion  to  dogs,  had  never  been  able  to  keep  cats, 
and  now  was  her  chance  to  obtain  the  very  choicest 
example  of  the  feline  race.  I  pictured  to  her  how  com- 
fortable we  could  make  the  beast,  even  during  the 
winter,  in  the  great  room  in  the  conservatory  and 
with  what  pleasure  we  could  all  hsten  to  her  morning 
and  evening  songs,  which  could  be  timed,  with  a  little 
management,  to  tell  the  hour  for  breakfast  and  dinner 
for  the  whole  household.  But  while  she  claimed  she 
was  still  fond  of  pet  cats,  she  firmly  drew  the  line  at 
lionesses. 

The  society  of  Leslie,  Nora  and  little  Chloe  was 
very  comforting  in  those  trying  weeks.  We  were  able 
to  get  many  foreign  newspapers.  The  Times  came  reg- 
ularly to  us  from  Holland  and  we  could  even  get  the 
Paris  Herald  at  some  news-stands,  but  the  most  reli- 
able news  came  from  the  Italian  press,  which  at  that 
time  was  as  nearly  impartial  as  was  humanly  possible. 
The  German  press  was  violently  bitter  and  boastful 
and  the  news  it  was  permitted  to  publish  was  care- 

(  451  ) 


fully  prepared  to  serve  the  purposes  of  the  Govern- 
ment. I  was  at  first  surprised  that  the  circulation  of 
French  and  English  newspapers  was  permitted,  but 
the  Government  only  needed  to  intimate  that  they 
contained  only  lies  and  the  trustful  German  people 
were  convinced  that  their  press  alone  was  honest  and 
frankly  published  the  whole  truth.  Again  and  again  I 
find  in  my  diary  frequent  reference  to  the  mendacious 
statements  of  the  German  press  and  the  ignorance  in 
which  the  people  were  kept,  and  constantly  asked  my- 
self what  harvest  such  deliberate  falsification  and 
withholding  of  the  real  facts  would  eventually  bear. 
After  the  battle  of  the  Marne,  I  felt  certain  that  some 
disaster  had  befallen  the  German  arms.  I  was  one  day 
standing  at  a  corner  of  a  street  in  Dresden,  when 
Count  Seebach,  whom  you  will  remember  as  the  effi- 
cient Intendant  of  the  opera  for  so  many  years,  came 
up  and  addressed  me.  He  told  me  he  had  just  returned 
from  the  front,  where  he  had  been  distributing  gifts  to 
the  soldiers.  I  at  once  thought  that  this  was  an  ex- 
traordinary mission  for  this  astute  gentleman,  who 
had  been,  I  knew,  often  sent  abroad  on  dehcate  diplo- 
matic business,  and  so  I  asked  him  in  what  condition 
he  had  found  the  Saxon  troops.  His  reply  was  so  non- 
committal and  his  depression  of  spirit  so  evident,  that 
I  could  only  draw  the  conclusion  that  something  seri- 
ous had  occurred.  Up  to  then,  and  for  a  considerable 

(  452  ) 


time  afterwards,  there  was  no  news  of  the  great  battle, 
when  one  morning  the  announcement  was  made  that 
the  victorious  German  army  had  taken  up  a  position 
far  in  the  rear  of  the  Hne  which  they  were  supposed  to 
be  occupying  and  then  some  copies  of  belated  foreign 
newspapers  came  and  we  knew  the  truth.  But  then, 
and  after,  the  German  press  was  so  cleverly  manipu- 
lated that  the  great  mass  of  the  people  had  no  idea  of 
the  serious  repulse  their  army  had  suffered,  but  be- 
lieved they  were  going  on  in  unbroken,  victorious 
progress. 

Long  were  the  walks,  many  the  talks  we  had  with 
our  dear  Noles,  but  at  last  the  time  approached  when 
they  must  return  to  America.  Nora  was  still  in  deli- 
cate health  and  it  was  necessary  for  her,  with  the  child 
and  nurse,  to  travel  as  comfortably  as  possible.  I  pre- 
ceded them  on  the  tenth  of  October  to  Berlin,  where 
I  hoped  to  make  favourable  arrangements  for  their 
journey  to  Holland,  but  suddenly  came  an  order  to 
suspend  the  trains  from  Berlin  to  the  west  and  so  they 
immediately  took  another  and  less  convenient  train 
from  Dresden  and  left  before  I  could  return.  But  I 
was  glad  for  them  to  get  safely  away,  for  every  day 
perplexities  increased  and  when  we  heard  that  they 
had  arrived  in  New  York,  we  were  much  comforted. 

It  was  on  this  visit  to  Berlin  that  I  saw  Mr.  Gerard 
for  the  first  time.  I  went  to  ask  him  an  important 

(453) 


question  and  found  the  Embassy  boiling  like  a  pot 
with  pressing  business.  The  Ambassador  received  me, 
however,  almost  immediately  and  at  once  and  with 
perfect  decision  replied  to  my  inquiry.  I  was  instantly 
convinced  that  he  was  indeed  the  man  for  this  great 
emergency,  which,  to  be  sure,  I  had  believed  ever  since 
his  gallant  behaviour  when  the  Berlin  mob  was  assail- 
ing the  British  Embassy  and  the  resolute  way  in  which 
he  dealt  with  the  problem  of  expediting  helpless  and 
unwilling  American  citizens  back  to  their  own  coun- 
try. Even  as  I  am  writing  these  words.  May  23,  191 8, 
comes  the  news  of  the  senseless  destruction  wrought 
in  Gerard's  country  house  on  the  Hudson.  "The 
house  was  badly  damaged,  and  most  of  the  furnish- 
ings were  destroyed  by  being  hurled  off  the  cliff  sev- 
eral hundred  feet  to  the  rocks  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson  below.  Furniture  was  battered  or  carried  into 
the  yard  and  broken  into  pieces  at  the  base  of  the 
cliff  upon  which  the  house  is  built.  The  intruders  em- 
ployed revolvers  to  aid  the  destructive  programme, 
using  glassware,  pictures  and  other  things  as  targets." 
No  one  needs  to  ask  the  nationality  of  these  ruffians. 
Already  long  before  Mr.  Gerard's  book  on  his  "Four 
Years  in  Germany"  was  published,  the  American  colo- 
ny in  Berlin  knew  of  the  story  of  the  500,000  lamp  posts 
and  of  much  else  which  indicated  that  their  Ambassa- 
dor was  conspicuously  unaffected  by  German  bluster. 

(  454  ) 


During  this  short  visit  to  BerHn  I  went  one  morning 
to  see  the  Dental  Institute  according  to  appointment. 
It  had  been  transformed  into  a  hospital  and  Professor 
Dr.  Colonel  Williger  was  in  charge.  Instead  of  wel- 
coming me  with  his  old  friendliness,  he  rushed  up  and 
violently  exclaimed:  "What  have  we  done  that  Amer- 
ica treats  us  so?"  Of  course  I  knew  what  he  meant  and 
turned  the  question  aside  by  inquiring  how  the  hospi- 
tal under  him  and  Dieck  and  Schroder  was  getting  on. 
Then  he  took  me  over  the  building  and  showed  me 
how  admirably  the  Institute  was  adapted  to  the  pur- 
pose. There  were  over  two  hundred  beds  and  already 
in  the  sixth  week  of  the  war,  they  were  all  occupied. 
Immediately  upon  the  outbreak  of  the  war  the  faculty 
of  the  Institute  offered  it  to  the  Surgeon  General's 
Department  and  received  a  laconic  and  somewhat 
contemptuous  reply,  to  the  effect  that  when  the  plans 
were  first  laid  before  the  Government  and  before 
ground  was  broken  for  the  building,  it  had  been  de- 
cided how  it  could  be  best  utilized  as  a  military  hos- 
pital and  a  sketch  was  enclosed,  dating  from  that 
time,  showing  where  each  bed  should  stand.  They 
were  told  where  to  store  all  the  dental  chairs  and  how 
to  provide  room  for  the  arrangement  of  the  wards,  and 
the  members  of  the  faculty  were  each  given  certain 
special  work  to  do.  There  were  already  many  grievous 
wounds  of  the  face  and  jaws  which  could  only  be  effec- 

(  455  ) 


tively  treated  by  dentists  and,  under  the  able  direc- 
tion of  Schroder,  many  brilliant  restorations  had  al- 
ready been  made. 

I  invited  Dieck  and  Mamlok  with  their  wives  to 
dine  with  me  at  the  hotel  Bristol,  on  the  plea  that  I 
was  still  not  fit  to  go  out  in  the  evening,  as  indeed  was 
the  case;  but  I  particularly  wanted  to  be  host,  rather 
than  guest,  that  I  might  be  free  to  talk  frankly  with 
them.  I  had  a  Httle  suite  on  the  quiet  court  at  the 
hotel  Bristol,  where  we  could  be  perfectly  served,  and 
had  ordered  a  dinner  such  as  they  would  appreciate, 
one  of  those  complicated  but  well-arranged  repasts  for 
which  the  Bristol  was  celebrated,  which  was  possible 
since  there  was  then  no  idea  of  food  shortage,  and  we 
were  soon  able  to  talk  unreservedly.  Dieck  was  oc- 
cupying our  dear  Miller's  chair  at  the  Institute  and 
Mamlok,  who  had  been  Dieck's  chief  assistant,  was 
at  the  head  of  the  department  of  oral  surgery  at  one 
of  the  large  military  hospitals  which  had  been  in- 
stantly established  upon  the  outbreak  of  the  war  all 
over  the  empire.  They  were  both  attached  friends,  to 
whom  I  had  been  of  some  service  and  from  whom  I 
had  received  many  kindnesses.  I  wanted  to  know  how 
Germans  of  their  class  looked  upon  the  war,  and  di- 
rected the  conversation  into  such  channels  as  I 
thought  most  Hkely  to  achieve  my  purpose. 

The  news  of  the  horrible  Russian  massacre  in  the 

(4S6) 


swamps  of  East  Prussia  was  but  recent,  and  more  pity 
for  the  sufferings  of  the  Russian  horses  than  for  the 
helplessly  confused  hundred  thousand  Russian  sol- 
diers who  perished  in  the  morasses  into  which  they 
had  been  enticed  was  expressed  on  every  hand.  Mam- 
lok,  whom  I  believed  to  be  partially  Russian  by  par- 
entage, would,  I  had  thought,  have  some  sympathy 
for  the  victims,  but  it  was  not  apparent. 

Finally,  I  told  them  some  of  my  recollections  of  the 
war  of  1 870;  at  the  end  of  which  united  Germany  had 
the  good  wishes  of  nearly  all  the  world,  because  it  was 
hoped  that  by  that  union  the  peace  of  the  world  would 
be  continuously  safeguarded.  I  related  in  what  a  chiv- 
alric  spirit  the  Saxons,  for  instance,  had  treated  their 
French  prisoners  and  how  much  the  French  officers, 
who  were  put  upon  parole  in  Dresden,  had  appre- 
ciated the  kindness  which  they  had  received,  and  ex- 
pressed the  hope  that  in  such  spirit  the  present  war 
might  be  conducted;  but  Dieck  answered  me  that  this 
war  could  not  be  carried  on  in  such  a  manner.  He  hon- 
estly believed  the  war  was  thrust  upon  them  and  must 
be  waged  relentlessly.  Dieck  and  Mamlok  were  among 
the  many  German  doctors  who  were  to  have  sailed  on 
the  great  new  ship  Imperator,  to  attend  the  Interna- 
tional Medical  Congress  at  London  the  first  week  in 
August.  I  was  not  well  enough  to  go  but,  supposing 
they  had  arrived  and  would  be  caught  by  the  threat- 

(457) 


ened  war,  I  had  telegraphed  to  have  money  supplied 
to  them  on  my  account,  in  case  they  needed  it  to  get 
away  quickly;  but  the  astute  German  authorities  had 
quietly  prevented  the  ship  from  sailing. 

I  saw  Dr.  Solbrig  in  Berlin.  He  was  a  Saxon,  but 
had  had  his  professional  education  in  America  and 
had  become  a  renowned  dental  practitioner  in  Paris. 
He  was  much  respected  and  admired  by  his  colleagues 
and  was  also  personally  sympathetic  to  us  all.  He  and 
his  brother,  whom  he  had  educated  in  America,  were 
liable  to  military  service  and  were,  in  any  event, 
obHged  to  leave  for  Germany  before  the  frontier  was 
closed.  The  brother  was  immediately  sent  to  the  front 
and  almost  as  immediately  died  of  tetanus  from  a 
slight  wound  in  the  hand.  Solbrig  and  his  lovely 
French  wife  had  not  to  undergo  the  tragedy  of  sepa- 
ration, since  as  soon  as  he  was  drafted,  Barnecross  had 
him  requisitioned  for  service  in  a  dental  ambulance  to 
which  Barnecross  had  been  appointed.  This  was  a 
piece  of  great  good  fortune,  for  Solbrig  was  a  deeply 
religious  man  and  belonged  to  a  sect  which  was  op- 
posed to  war,  a  kind  of  German  non-resistant  com- 
munity, I  believe.  Solbrig  had  lost  his  savings,  and 
what  he  valued  more,  his  most  agreeable  position  in 
successful  practice  in  Paris,  but,  next  to  the  death  of 
his  brother,  his  chief  regret  was,  as  I  believe,  losing  the 
friendship  of  his  French  colleagues. 

(458 ) 


I  returned  to  Thorwald  sad  at  heart.  Not  for  a 
moment  did  I  doubt  that  such  a  war  must  ultimately 
end  in  the  triumph  of  the  Allies,  but  it  was  evident 
that  it  would  be  a  long  contest  and  that  it  would  be 
waged  by  the  Central  Powers  with  relentless  cruelty, 
and  I  was  much  depressed  at  the  vindictive  spirit  with 
which  the  foe  was  regarded  even  by  the  kindliest  of 
my  old  German  friends. 

Now  that  Noles  had  left  us,  we  began  to  prepare  for 
spending  the  winter  at  Thorwald.  We  had  promised  to 
be  in  America  in  May,  191 5,  to  celebrate  our  golden 
wedding  in  our  own  country  and  there  was  much  to 
do  in  preparing  to  leave  Thorwald  for  an  indefinite 
time.  Many  of  our  friends  had  already  left,  but  the 
few  loyal  Americans  who  remained  were  drawn  more 
closely  together  and  we  were  fortunate  in  having  as 
American  consul  Mr.  Leo  Bergholz,  an  experienced 
and  able  official.  We  all  came  to  know  each  other 
better  in  such  trying  times  than  would  have  been  the 
case  in  years  of  ordinary  acquaintance.  I  find  written 
in  my  diary  of  September  20  the  following  paragraph : 
"Yesterday  we  all  called  upon  Mrs.  Bergholz,  mother 
of  the  American  consul  general.  She  has  just  returned 
from  Paris,  where  she  went  to  see  her  sister  off  to  Amer- 
ica. She  is  seventy-seven  years  old  and  has  the  cheer- 
fulness and  buoyancy  of  girlhood.  Far  better  than  a 
play  is  her  lively  conversation  and  she  is  a  beauty,  even 

(  459  ) 


at  her  years.  Mrs.  Bergholz  regarded  it  as  a  great  lark 
to  go  through  Switzerland  to  France  in  war  time,  to 
see  her  sister  off  from  Havre  and  come  back  to  Paris 
to  replenish  her  wardrobe  and  jaunt  through  France 
and  Switzerland  and  Bavaria  all  alone  in  these  stirring 
times  back  to  Dresden,  finding  it  more  amusing  by  far 
than  journeying  in  times  of  peace."  The  experience 
the  consul  had  had  in  China  and  Turkey  as  well  as  in 
other  posts — he  was  sent  to  Van  after  the  great  Ar- 
menian Massacres — had  fitted  him  well  for  dealing 
with  the  difficulties  of  his  present  situation  and  I  had 
many  occasions  to  admire  his  courage  and  tact.  The 
consulate  was  overwhelmed  with  work  but  he  seemed 
never  to  fail  in  resource  and  patience.  The  British  in 
the  district  were  under  his  protection  and  he  did  pro- 
tect them.  He  managed  to  have  the  English  women,  of 
whom  there  were  a  considerable  number,  sent  home  in 
due  time,  so  that  they  got  out  of  the  hostile  country 
in  good  condition.  I  shall  never  forget  two  kindnesses 
he  did  us.  One  of  these  was  when  it  was  necessary  for 
George  to  have  his  passport  renewed  and  the  law  re- 
quired him  to  appear  at  the  consulate  to  make  out  the 
necessary  papers.  When  he  learned  that  George  was 
an  invalid  and  could  hardly  be  moved,  he  offered  at 
first,  although  he  was  overburdened  with  pressing  offi- 
cial duties,  to  go  to  him  and  execute  the  paper  there; 
but  finally  it  was  arranged  to  have  it  done  upon  the 

( 460 ) 


instant  and  we  carried  it  back  to  George  in  triumph. 
Another  I  will  refer  to  later. 

It  was  a  sombre  season.  Evidences  of  the  horrible 
barbarities  in  Belgium  were  sustained  by  the  publi- 
cation in  the  German  press  of  the  ferocious  orders  of 
the  German  commandant,  which  the  German  people 
regarded  either  with  open  approval  or  excused  upon 
the  plea  of  mihtary  necessity.  There  were  few  evi- 
dences that  the  outer  world  was  alive  to  the  character 
and  purposes  of  the  war,  but  I  remember  how  we  re- 
joiced over  a  sheet  of  the  London  Times  which  had 
been  smuggled  into  Germany  and  passed  about  dis- 
creetly. It  was  of  the  date  of  September  lo,  and 
quoted  from  the  King's  message  to  the  Self-Govern- 
ing  Dominions  and  the  Princes  and  Peoples  of  India. 
"Had  I  stood  aside,  I  should  have  sacrificed  my  hon- 
our and  given  to  destruction  the  liberties  of  my  empire 
and  of  mankind."  'The  Tifnes  leader  was  headed  "The 
Rally  of  the  Empire,"  and  contained  not  only  an  ac- 
count of  the  splendid  loyalty  of  the  self-governing 
states  of  the  empire,  including   South  Africa, — in 
which  British  statesmanship  and  love  of  justice  had 
in  the  space  of  twelve  years  brought  those  distracted 
states  into  a  union  the  cornerstone  of  which  was  equal 
rights, — but  also  the  news  from  India.  To  quote  from 
the  leader:  "The  Indian  Empire  has  overwhelmed  the 
British  nation  by  the  completeness  and  the  unanim- 

(461 ) 


ity  of  its  enthusiastic  aid.  Seven  hundred  Princes  and 
Chiefs  of  India  have  placed  the  whole  of  their  re- 
sources at  the  disposal  of  the  King-Emperor.  They 
have  offered  their  swords,  their  treasures,  their  troops, 
their  lives."  For  the  moment  the  offer  of  sending 
70,000  soldiers  immediately,  horse,  foot  and  artillery, 
seemed  munificent,  for  we  had  not  then  begun  to 
reckon  soldiers  by  millions  and  money  by  billions. 

Under  date  of  March  24, 191 5, 1  wrote  to  Cavalie  as 
follows: 

I  wish  I  could  talk  my  heart  out  to  you  regarding  this  awful 
war.  I  have  seen  it  coming  for  years,  but  always  hoped  that  the 
system  of  alliances  would  prevent  it.  But  I  did  not  realize  that 
the  German  nation  had  gone  mad  with  ambition  and  that  mad- 
men are  capable  of  anything.  At  first  I  was  ready  to  place  all 
the  blame  on  the  Kaiser  and  his  arbitrary  government,  but 
when  I  saw  the  whole  nation  rejoiced  to  follow  where  they  were 
being  led,  I  could  not  hold  any  one  of  them  guiltless.  Knowing 
Germany  as  I  do,  I  expect  her  to  make  a  tremendous  fight,  but 
when  the  people  are  convinced  that  the  game  is  up,  they  will 
probably  get  a  great  funk  and  the  end  may  be  sudden. 

There  can  be  but  one  end  to  this  tremendous  struggle.  A  new 
Europe  must  be  brought  to  birth,  in  which  the  people  really 
govern  themselves  and  find  some  practical  method  of  living  in 
harmony  with  each  other. 

How  this  is  to  be  brought  about  you  Englishmen  must  ar- 
range. Between  Britain  and  France  lies  the  responsibility  for 
the  peace  of  Europe.  You  two  alone  know  what  democratic  in- 
stitutions are  and  mean,  but  you  will  have  to  encounter  much 

(462) 


ignorance  and  prejudice  on  the  part  of  your  allies.  You  must 
manage  not  only  to  conquer,  overcoming  German  militancy  and 
completely  destroying  the  last  vestige  of  Turkish  tyranny,  but 
to  arrange  a  system  which  shall  actually  give  political  and  per- 
sonal liberty  to  every  country  in  Europe  and  to  all  the  inhabi- 
tants thereof.  This  is  a  tremendous  task,  but  if  it  is  not  accom- 
plished, then  the  heroic  dead  will  have  died  in  vain  and  another 
generation  must  take  up  the  same  wretched  burden  at  an  even 
greater  sacrifice. 

This  will  show  you  the  feeling  which  I  then  had 
regarding  the  war.  Despite  all  that  has  since  occurred 
and  the  just  anger  that  has  been  aroused  by  a  war 
characterized  by  such  treachery  and  inhumanity,  I 
still  entertain  the  same  hopes.  As  I  am  writing  now  at 
this  country  place  which  Leslie  has  taken  at  Tacoma 
Park,  near  Washington,  and  where  your  mother  and  I 
are  visiting  them,  in  May,  191 8,  the  American  people 
have  been  asked  to  raise,  in  a  single  week,  one  hun- 
dred million  dollars  for  the  Red  Cross,  and  have  re- 
sponded by  giving  nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  millions. 

On  February,  17, 191 5, 1  wrote  in  my  spasmodically 
kept  diary:  "Here  I  add  only  a  line,  to  record  that 
events  have  been  so  wearisome  in  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
this  new  war  of  trenches  and  we  have  supped  so  full 
of  horrors,  that  a  diary  becomes  too  distressing." 


191 6  Chapter  Twenty-two  1916 

/^N  February  i6  a  radiogram  had  been  sent  to  the 
^^--'Consul-General  in  Dresden  reading:  "Strongly 
advise  Geheimrat  Jenkins  to  start  South  soon.  Orton 
B.  Brown."  Some  days  elapsed  before  its  reception 
but  then  we  set  to  work  in  earnest  to  prepare.  We  had 
intended  to  sail  for  America  in  May  in  any  event,  but 
this  summons  caused  us  to  hasten  our  preparations, 
for  we  feared  either  some  family  misfortune  had  oc- 
curred or  that  Orton,  who  was  in  the  way  of  knowing 
what  was  likely  to  happen  in  public  life  or  in  business 
in  America,  had  good  reason  to  advise  prompt  action, 
and  we  were  anxious  to  get  into  a  neutral  country, 
where  we  could  cable  and  write  freely. 

It  was  a  deal  of  work  to  pack  up  some  of  our  most 
cherished  possessions  in  readiness  to  be  shipped  to 
America,  when  it  should  be  possible,  for  then  it  was 
not  practicable  to  send  freight  out  of  the  country.  We 
could  not  think  of  packing  everything,  for  the  Georges 
and  Louise  were  to  live  at  Thorwald  during  our  ab- 
sence. We  filled  the  oriental  room,  however,  pretty  full 
of  boxes  all  fit  for  shipment.  In  about  a  week  came 
another  radiogram  to  the  consul,  reading:  "Cabled 
you  Sunday  advised  Geheimrat  Jenkins  to  go  South. 
Has  he  started?  Herbert,  Leonard,  Rob  advise  he  go 

(464) 


immediately.  Orton  Brown."  By  this  time  we  saw  our 
way  to  get  through  with  the  formahties  indispensable 
to  leaving  the  country  and  could  ask  the  consul  to 
respond,  through  the  consul  in  Rotterdam :"  Leaving 
for  Switzerland  March  6  all  well."  On  March  5  I 
found  that  new  orders  had  been  issued  by  the  military 
authorities  in  Bavaria  which  necessitated  changes  in 
the  papers  essential  to  getting  out  of  the  country.  Our 
compartment  for  Munich  had  long  been  engaged  for 
the  evening  of  March  6  and  there  were  various  weight- 
ier reasons  why  our  departure  should  not  be  delayed, 
and  so  I  rushed  off  to  consult  Mr.  Bergholz.  He  offered 
to  send  one  of  the  deputy-consuls  by  rail  to  Berlin  and 
to  telephone  the  American  Embassy  to  keep  open  until 
his  messenger  should  arrive,  while  I  telegraphed  to  my 
friend.  Baron  von  Mumm,  in  the  Foreign  Office,  to 
expedite  the  formalities  there,  and  this  would  give 
time  enough  for  the  deputy  consul  to  return  from 
Berlin  by  mid-day  of  the  sixth,  thus  making  it  pos- 
sible for  the  police  formalities  in  Dresden  to  be  com- 
pleted on  that  same  day.  I  gladly  accepted  this  great 
kindness  and  amiable  Deputy  Consul  Brown  was  sent 
off  on  the  next  train.  I  told  him  to  go  to  the  Hotel 
Bristol  and  to  be  sure  to  ask  any  friends  he  would  like 
to  dine  with  him  there  and  to  get  all  the  pleasure  he 
could  out  of  his  hasty  trip.  The  plan  worked  admir- 
ably and  Mr.  Brown  returned  with  everything  in 

(465) 


order,  he  declaring  that  he  greatly  enjoyed  the  trip 
and  saying  he  was  very  glad  to  have  had  a  friend  from 
the  American  Embassy  to  dine  with  him.  I  had  also  a 
friendly  reply  from  von  Mumm,  which  I  took  with  my 
papers  in  case  there  should  be  any  trouble  with  the 
officials  on  the  Bavarian  frontier  of  Switzerland,  and 
we  went  through  all  right  to  Munich.  So  we,  your 
dear  mother  the  L.E.A.L.  dog  and  I,  sad  at  heart  at 
leaving  our  beloved  Thorwald  and  the  Georges,  were 
speeded  on  our  way. 

We  rested  a  day  at  Munich  to  have  the  passports 
vised  by  the  American  consul  and  other  officials.  I 
was  interested  to  see  Mr.  Gaffney  again.  He  was  a 
naturalized  Irishman,  who  had  been  secretary  to  Par- 
nell,  and  was  sent  by  Roosevelt  as  American  consul  to 
Dresden  a  few  years  before.  His  violent  pro-German- 
ism was  a  public  scandal.  I  had  always  avoided  him  in 
Dresden  but  had  known  him  slightly  and  was  curious 
to  hear  him  talk  of  the  war.  Just  then  it  was  believed 
that  Italy  was  about  to  join  the  Entente  and  Gaffiiey, 
devout  Roman  Catholic  that  he  was,  said  to  me  with 
great  emphasis:  "If,  after  forty-three  years  of  peace, 
Italy  turns  against  Germany,  she  ought  to  be  swept 
from  off  the  face  of  the  earth." 

Munich  resounded  with  the  tramp  of  soldiers,  fresh 
troops  being  on  their  way  to  the  front,  and  the  enthu- 
siasm was  overwhelming.  The  streets  were  crowded 

(466) 


with  the  applauding  populace  and  many  friends  and 
relatives  marched  with  the  men.  I  observed,  in  par- 
ticular, a  tall,  middle-aged  peasant  woman,  dressed  in 
deep  mourning,  striding  by  the  side  of  her  son,  erect, 
determined,  fierce,  a  true  Spartan  mother.  All  these 
honest  people  seemed  to  believe  in  the  justice  of  their 
cause  and  proudly  bore  their  share  of  sacrifice,  and 
this  woman  was  true  to  the  type.  I  noticed  a  case  of 
sophistication,  however,  in  the  man  who  ran  the  lift 
at  the  hotel  which  showed  that  patriotism  could  be 
allied  with  business.  As  he  was  having  the  honour  to 
take  L.E.A.L.  and  me  down  for  our  early  morning 
walk,  I  remarked  upon  the  rare  beauty  of  the  weather 
and  he  replied:  ''Mein  Herr,  es  ist  immer  schones  Wet- 
ter in  Munchen  "  ("Sir,  it  is  always  fine  weather  in 
Munich"),  and  he  actually  looked  as  if  he  himself 
believed  that  such  a  crab  as  that  could  be  thrust  down 
a  confiding  stranger's  throat. 

We  had  no  difficulties  at  the  frontier,  being  let 
through  with  all  our  many  impedimenta  scarcely 
glanced  at  by  the  officials,  and  breathed  a  deep  sigh  of 
relief  as  soon  as  we  were  on  neutral  soil  where,  for  the 
first  time  in  seven  months,  we  could  telegraph,  write 
and  speak  whatever  we  liked,  and  upon  reaching 
Zurich  we  cabled  Leonard:  "Arrived  Zurich,  well. 
Telegraph  complete  family  news." 

In  reply  came  a  cablegram  from  Leonard  announc- 

(467) 


ing  the  birth  of  his  son  Newell  Owen  Jenkins,  without 
mention  that  the  mother's  life  had  been  thereby  sac- 
rificed, which  painful  news  he  desired  to  spare  us  until 
we  should  reach  America,  fearing  otherwise  to  hasten 
us  into  a  winter  voyage.  But  a  telegram  from  friends 
in  Dresden,  received  almost  at  the  same  moment,  be- 
trayed to  us  the  sad  fact. 

The  death  of  our  dear  Mary  Grace  was  a  deep  trag- 
edy to  us  all.  She  and  Leonard  were  ideally  happy  in 
their  marriage  and  we  had  looked  forward  to  seeing 
them  together,  blessing  us  and  the  world  for  years  to 
come.  Slowly  we  made  our  way  to  Florence  and  the 
final  arrangements  for  a  passage  from  Naples  to 
America  on  the  Patria^  which  should  bring  us  to  New 
York  early  in  May. 

While  we  -were  in  Zurich  I  looked  up  some  old 
friends,  from  whom  I  hoped  to  hear  something  of  the 
real  sentiments  of  the  German-Swiss  regarding  the 
war.  I  found  them  surprisingly  pro-German.  They 
claimed  to  be  patriotic  republicans,  but  they  sympa- 
thized with  the  aims  of  the  German  Imperialists  and 
were  oblivious  to  the  danger  of  losing  their  liberties  if 
Germany  won  the  war  and  could  remake  the  map  of 
Europe  at  her  own  will. 

Italy,  also,  surprised  me.  It  was  evident  that  there 
was  much  sympathy  for  Germany  among  certain 
classes  capable  of  being  influenced  by  the  intensive 

(468) 


pro-German  propaganda,  which  was  being  carried  on. 
But  in  Rome  we  saw  the  real  spirit  of  the  people  in  an 
anti-German  demonstration  of  great  dimensions. 

We  went  first  to  Florence,  where  we  stayed  for  a 
month,  daily  enjoying  the  society  of  Cousins  Charles 
and  Fanny,  who  were,  as  ever,  perfectly  calm  and 
sweetly  confident  of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  righteous- 
ness, here  and  hereafter.  May  they  be  spared  in  their 
beautiful  old  age  to  see  their  faith  justified. 

An  incidental  result  of  the  disturbed  public  condi- 
tion was  that  we  could  have  our  choice  of  apartments 
at  the  Hotel  Italia.  We  chose  numbers  19-20,  with  a 
large  bedroom  and  bath  and  a  magnificent  salon  with 
a  balcony  looking  out  on  the  Arno,  where  we  were 
luxuriously  comfortable.  The  landlord  had  both  the 
leisure  and  the  disposition  to  show  his  few  guests 
every  attention,  and  in  many  ways  Florence  was  more 
delightful  than  ever,  as  there  were  very  few  strangers 
and  one  saw  the  beautiful  city  in  its  natural  condi- 
tion. I  found  the  landlord  had  some  delicious,  unforti- 
fied old  port  of  a  famous  vintage  and,  when  I  had 
made  its  acquaintance,  I  asked  him  to  let  me  have  a 
dozen  bottles  to  take  to  America.  This  he  was,  with 
all  his  amiability,  reluctant  to  do,  since  there  was  so 
Httle  of  it  left;  but  when  I  told  him  that  I  wanted  it 
for  the  christening  of  my  grandson,  he  relented  and 
I  brought  it  safely  home  to  America.  The  first  bottle 

( 469 ) 


was  opened  on  the  occasion  of  sweet  little  Newell 
Owen  Jenkins's  christening.  In  1917  also  the  infant 
son  of  our  dear  Rob  and  Hildreth,  sturdy  little  Newell 
Brown,  graciously  allowed  us  to  drink  to  his  health  in 
the  same  wine  at  his  christening,  where  many  mem- 
bers of  the  clan  were  present. 

While  in  Florence  I  heard  of  the  death  of  my  upper 
gardener  Trinks.  He  died  miserably  of  typhus  in  Nish. 
When  war  was  declared,  he  told  me,  with  evident 
pride,  that  he  should  certainly  be  called  out  in  the 
second  division  of  the  Austrian  Landwehr  and  that  he 
should  be  glad  to  go,  for  it  would  be  only  for  a  fort- 
night and  then  the  war  would  be  over.  He  went  at 
once  to  announce  himself  at  the  Austrian  Consulate 
in  Dresden  and  frequently,  at  first,  went  to  inquire  if 
he  had  not  been  called  for.  But,  as  weeks  went  by  and 
already  thousands  of  wounded  soldiers  were  filling  the 
hospitals  in  Dresden,  he  began  to  see  that  this  was  a 
serious  war,  unlike  any  of  which  he  had  ever  heard. 
He  had  been  the  best  shot  in  his  company  and  was 
certain  he  would  be  needed.  At  last  the  summons 
came,  and  on  the  very  evening  of  the  day  when  we 
had  received  reliable  news  of  the  destruction  of  Lou- 
vain  he  came  to  the  villa  to  take  farewell,  dressed  in 
his  best  and  wearing  his  service  medal,  "That  my 
Emperor  Franz  Josef  gave  me,"  he  said.  Under  the 
stress  of  his  restrained  emotion  he  made  a  fine  figure, 

(  470  ) 


his  rugged  features  wearing  a  dignified  expression  and 
his  whole  bearing  being  noble.  But  to  us  it  was  a  pa- 
thetic sight.  He  was  departing  to  meet  great  danger 
in  a  spirit  of  loyal  devotion,  but  he  was  as  ignorant  of 
the  cause  for  which  he  was  to  fight  as  was  his  own 
child.  He  heard  the  inexorable  call,  obeyed  with  a 
manly  heart,  but  not  with  the  spirit  of  confidence 
which  inspired  the  German  soldier  of  his  class.  He  had 
served  me  faithfully  for  six  years  and  I  was  glad  to 
have  his  wife  and  child  continue  to  stay  on  the  place. 
I  sent  all  the  servants  with  a  bottle  of  wine  to  his 
house  to  drink  to  his  speedy  and  safe  return  and  he 
went  off  at  once  to  a  camp  in  Bohemia,  where  I  later 
sent  his  wife  and  child  to  stay  a  little  before  his  regi- 
ment went  to  the  front.  Before  we  left  Dresden  news 
had  come  that  he  was  a  prisoner  in  Serbia.  Letters  and 
parcels  had  been  sent  to  him  but  nothing  seemed  to 
reach  him,  for  the  Austrian  Field  Post  was  not  effi- 
cient, and  I  telegraphed  money  twice  to  the  American 
Minister  to  Roumania  to  be  sent  to  him,  once  from 
Dresden  and  again  from  Switzerland;  but  I  fear  it 
never  reached  him  and  that  he  died  not  knowing  that 
his  wife  and  his  Herrschaft  did  all  they  could  to  send 
him  aid  and  words  of  cheer.  This  was  by  no  means  the 
only  incident  which  came  to  our  knowledge  of  the 
Austrian  military  inefficiency  and  indifference  in  car- 
ing for  their  soldiers. 

(471 ) 


We  were  glad  to  have  a  few  days  in  Rome  in  April 
and  at  a  time  when  the  Eternal  City  was  not  over- 
crowded, for  we  wished  to  see  where  we  could  live 
most  comfortably  if  the  time  should  come  when  we 
dared  think  of  spending  a  winter  there.  But  the  lack 
of  the  usual  tumult  of  foreigners  did  not  produce  a 
quiet  atmosphere.  The  whole  nation  was  waiting  in 
suppressed  excitement  for  the  word  and  deed  which 
should  show  that  Italy  had  recovered  from  the  mili- 
tary strain  of  the  war  with  Turkey  and  was  able  to 
strike  a  blow,  to  redeem  the  enthralled  Italian  prov- 
inces from  the  control  of  their  ancient  foe.  Prince 
Billow  was  on  a  special  mission  to  Italy  again,  the  re- 
sumption of  his  old  position  of  Ambassador  to  Italy, 
after  having  been  Chancellor  of  the  German  Empire 
and,  for  a  time,  in  disfavour.  This  reappointment  was 
regarded  as  being  at  once  a  tribute  to  his  patriotism 
and  an  illustration  of  the  cold-blooded  way  in  which 
the  German  Government  used  its  servants  in  any  way 
and  at  any  time  and  for  any  purpose  which  might  suit 
its  policy.  Believing,  as  I  did,  that  he  was  an  advocate 
of  settling  international  difficulties  diplomatically  and 
that  he  must  know  that  he  was  on  a  hopeless  mission 
and  out  of  his  part,  I  should  have  Hked  to  call  and 
leave  my  card  at  the  Embassy  but,  after  seeing  a  pop- 
ular demonstration  against  the  Central  Powers  which 
occurred  just  after  our  arrival,  I  thought  better  of  it. 

(  472  ) 


We  saw  Chiavaro  and  his  madonna-like  wife  in 
Rome  and  found  them,  even  in  these  confused  times, 
as  overwhehningly  kind  and  hospitable  as  ever.  It  was 
evident  what  they  expected  and  I  told  Chiavaro  that 
if,  and  when,  Italy  went  to  war,  my  cousin  Charles 
had  authority  to  make  a  contribution  from  me  to  the 
aid  of  the  oral  surgery  department,  to  which  I  was 
sure  he  would  be  appointed.  In  a  few  weeks  conditions 
were  as  I  anticipated  and  for  the  reason  that  I  started 
this  fund  and  had  promised  a  monthly  contribution  to 
the  American  hospital  in  Florence  for  the  duration  of 
the  war,  I  was  later  awarded  the  diploma  of  the  Italian 
Red  Cross,  which  it  gave  me  much  pleasure  to  receive 
afterwards  in  America. 

We  went  to  Bertolini's  for  the  few  days  we  stayed 
in  Naples  before  our  ship  sailed  and  found  the  view  as 
splendid  and  the  management  as  detestable  as  ever. 
L.E.A.L.  was  a  great  comfort  in  sharing  my  walks 
above  the  city,  but  was  the  innocent  occasion  of  an 
incident  which  caused  me  some  anxiety.  One  morning, 
while  I  was  waiting  for  the  lift  to  take  me  down  for  our 
before  breakfast  walk,  a  dog,  belonging  to  the  man- 
ager and  as  surly  as  his  master,  attacked  L.E.A.L. 
savagely.  In  choking  the  beast  into  insensibility  so 
that  he  would  release  his  hold  on  L.E.A.L. 's  neck, 
I  strained  my  back  and  could  scarcely  make  my  way 
to  our  room.  Our  ship  was  to  sail  in  a  few  days  and  I 

(  473  ) 


was  so  much  disabled  that  I  had  to  go  to  bed  and 
could  presently  scarcely  move  hand  or  foot.  But  we 
soon  got  an  English  doctor  who  had  once  skilfully 
treated  Nora  in  an  emergency  and  a  good  masseur, 
and  between  them  both  I  was  able  to  get  on  board 
the  Patria  and  sail  all  right  on  the  appointed  day, 
although  I  did  halt  in  my  gait  for  many  a  day  after- 
ward; but  the  discipline  was  good  for  my  impetuous 
soul. 

Never  before  had  we  been  so  impatient  to  reach  our 
port.  There  were  many  passengers,  but  we  had  two 
cabins  with  a  bath-room  between  for  the  best  of  dogs 
and  a  deck  outside  our  door  where  he  could  get  his 
exercise,  so  we  had  every  possible  physical  comfort, 
but  it  was  noticeable  that  the  officers  were  anxious 
and  an  unusually  careful  lookout  was  being  kept.  The 
German  submarines  had  commenced  their  dastardly 
outrages  some  time  before,  but  it  was  asserted  that 
they  could  not  make  long  voyages,  certainly  not  to 
the  Mediterranean,  yet  our  captain  was  not  at  ease 
until  he  was  well  into  the  Atlantic  and  even  then  was 
in  fear  of  a  chance  raider. 

But  when  at  last  we  reached  New  York  and  had  our 
dear  son  in  our  arms  again,  we  were  filled  with  fresh 
thankfulness  for  the  goodness  of  our  God,  who  had  led 
us  through  so  many  years  of  exile,  but  chiefly  in  ways 
of  pleasantness  and  paths  of  peace,  to  bring  us  back  in 

(  474  ) 


safety  to  our  children  and  our  native  land,  when  the 
whole  world  was  resounding  with  the  clash  of  arms. 

We  had  long  promised  to  spend  our  golden  wedding 
anniversary  with  Leonard  and,  since  it  was  necessary 
for  Cavalie  to  come  to  America  on  account  of  the  busi- 
ness of  the  English  Kolynos  Company,  I  invited  Grace 
and  the  children  and  their  tutor,  Mr.  Elliot,  to  come 
also,  that  they  might  all  be  present  at  the  celebration. 
They  arrived  safely  on  June  3  and  we  had  just  time 
to  take  them  to  Washington  and  Mt.  Vernon  before 
going  to  New  Haven  for  the  festivity. 

Herbert  and  Orton  and  Rob  had  wished  to  give  us 
a  great  entertainment  at  New  York,  or  any  other 
place  we  might  prefer,  and  invite  all  the  members  of 
the  family  to  attend;  but  we  felt,  considering  Leon- 
ard's recent  affliction  and  the  tragedy  of  the  war,  that 
it  was  more  appropriate  to  have  the  occasion  cele- 
brated quietly  at  Leonard's  house  in  New  Haven.  All 
the  members  of  the  families  of  Leonard,  Nora  and 
Grace  and  cousin  Edward  were  present.  As  it  was  the 
first  golden  wedding  which  had  occurred  in  the  family, 
there  were  many  congratulations  and  good  wishes  and 
a  shower  of  gifts  to  commemorate  the  occasion. 
Among  the  latter  was  a  beautiful  golden  loving  cup 
from  Herbert,  Orton  and  Rob,  made  even  more  pre- 
cious to  us  through  having  been  selected  by  Caroline. 
It  was  used  for  the  first  time  that  day,  filled  with  some 

(475) 


of  the  wine  which  we  had  brought  from  Italy  for 
Newell's  christening,  and  partaken  of  after  the  cere- 
mony I  have  taught  you.  I  hope  it  will  remain  for 
many  generations  in  our  family,  as  a  memento  of  our 
long  and  happy  life  and  of  the  strong  tie  of  mutual 
affection  and  helpfulness  which  has  always  charac- 
terized those  of  our  blood. 


appendix 

NOTE  I 

"Nothing  can  be  trivial  which  relates  to  the  voyage  of  the 
Mayflower  or  the  first  four  years'  experience  of  the  Colony. 
There  is  importance  in  every  event  which  in  any  degree  affected 
the  question  whether  the  settlement  should  be  maintained  or 
abandoned;  for  reading  between  the  lines  of  that  question  there 
is  seen  within  it  another,  as  to  whether  posterity  should  behold 
an  Anglo-Saxon  state  on  the  American  continent.  Had  Ply- 
mouth been  deserted  by  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  in  1621-1622,  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay  would  have  remained  desolate,  and  even  Vir- 
ginia would  doubtless  have  been  abandoned.  Then,  before  new 
colonization  could  be  organized,  France  would  have  made  good 
her  claim  by  pushing  down  our  Atlantic  coast  until  she  met 
Spain  ascending  from  the  south, — unless,  indeed,  Holland  had 
retained  her  hold  at  the  center.  Without  her  neglected  children 
in  New  England,  Britain  would  not  have  become  mistress  of 
Canada,  nor  would  that  Protestantism  which  she  encouraged, 
nor  that  which  she  persecuted,  have  found  a  home  in  the  New 
World;  neither  would  she  have  felt  the  reflex  influence  which 
has  had  no  small  share  in  imbuing  her  government  with  the 
spirit  of  liberty,  humanity  and  continued  progress, — an  influ- 
ence widely  felt  on  both  continents.  Such  were  some  of  the  mo- 
mentous issues  that  were  largely  decided  by  the  apparently 
little  things  which  made  up  the  Pilgrims'  history.  More  than  a 
century  ago  (1767)  Sir  Thomas  Hutchinson,  our  Tory  Gov- 
ernor, whose  tastes  would  not  have  led  him  to  an  undue  estima- 
tion of  the  uncourtly  and  unchartered  settlers  at  Plymouth, 
thus  spoke  of  them  in  his  History: 

(  477  ) 


"  'These  were  the  founders  of  the  Colony  of  New  Plymouth. 
The  settlement  of  this  Colony  occasioned  the  settlement  of 
Massachusetts  Bay,  which  was  the  source  of  all  the  other  Col- 
onies in  New  England.  Virginia  was  in  a  dying  state,  and  seemed 
to  revive  and  flourish  from  the  example  of  New  England. 

"  '  I  am  not  preserving  from  oblivion  the  names  of  heroes 
whose  chief  merit  is  the  overthrow  of  cities,  provinces  and  em- 
pires, but  the  names  of  the  founders  of  a  flourishing  town  and 
colony,  if  not  oi  the  whole  British  Empire  in  America  J  " 

From  the  Preface  to  "The  Pilgrim  Republic" 
by  John  A.  Goodwin 

NOTE  1 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers,  the  founders  of  our  Plymouth,  the  pioneer 
Colony  of  New  England,  were  not  Puritans.  They  never  were 
called  by  that  name,  either  by  themselves  or  their  contempora- 
ries. They  were  Separatists,  slightingly  called  Brownists,  and 
in  time  became  known  as  Independents  or  Congregationalists. 
As  Separatists  they  were  oppressed  and  maligned  by  the  Puri- 
tans. They  did  not  restrict  voting  or  office-holding  to  their 
church-members.  They  heartily  welcomed  to  their  little  State 
all  men  of  other  sects,  or  of  no  sects,  who  adhered  to  the  essen- 
tials of  Christianity  and  were  ready  to  conform  to  the  local  laws 
and  customs.* 

The  territory  of  New  Plymouth  was  absolutely  their  private 
domain;  they  had  obtained  the  title  from  the  King's  grantees, 
and  also  by  purchase  from  the  natives  at  prices  deemed  fair  by 
each  contracting  party.  "With  a  great  price"  obtained  they 

*"They  were  in  advance  of  their  brethren  in  England;  much  in  advance  of 
.  .  .  their  sister  colony  of  Massachusetts,  with  whom,  in  this  respect  they 
have  been  unjustly  classed." — Steel's  Life  of  Brewster,  p.  395. 

(478) 


"freedom  to  worship  God"  as  their  consciences  dictated,  and 
they  did  not  invite  their  former  persecutors  to  come  in  and  re- 
vive hostilities  in  this  new  home.  Their  church  was  very  dear  to 
them,  and  zealots  who  intruded  for  the  purpose  of  warring 
against  it  were  ordered  to  seek  other  fields.  Another  great  mo- 
tive for  their  removal  to  the  wilderness  had  been  the  rearing  of 
their  children  apart  from  the  evil  communications  of  the  Old 
World;  and  of  all  who  desired  to  share  their  domicile  they  con- 
sistently required  a  conformity  to  their  standard  of  the  pro- 
prieties of  life.  In  short,  they  sought  to  found  an  asylum  for  per- 
secuted Congregationalism;  and  they  never  professed  to  estab- 
lish an  arena  for  the  enemies  of  that  order.  No  person  had  any 
claim  to  share  their  private  estate  without  the  consent  of  its 
owners. 

They  treated  the  Indians  of  their  Colony  with  scrupulous  jus- 
tice, protecting  them  from  their  enemies,  relieving  them  from 
distress,  and  requiring  their  rights  to  be  respected  by  others. 

Though  their  laws  would  now  be  harsh,  they  were  generally 
mild  for  that  age,  and  were  usually  administered  with  a  degree 
of  reason  and  mercy  before  unknown  to  governments.* 

They  never  punished,  or  even  committed  any  person  as  a 
witch. 

Roger  Williams  always  had  the  free  range  of  their  Colony, 
and  freedom  of  speech  in  it. 

*"At  the  accession  of  James  I  England  made  31  crimes  capital.  This  number 
gradually  increased  to  223!  Massachusetts  Bay  made  13  crimes  capital  and 
the  Virginia  Colony  had  17,  including  Unitarianism,  sacrilege,  adultery,  de- 
frauding the  public  treasury,  false-witness,  and  the  third  offense  of  refusing 
to  attend  public  worship!  Connecticut  surpassed  Massachusetts;  but  her  so- 
called  'blue  laws'  are  fictitious,  being  the  work  of  one  Peters,  who  had  been 
expelled  from  that  Colony.  Plymouth  had  only  five  classes  of  capital  crime; 
and  of  these  she  actually  punished  but  two." 

From  the  Introduction  to  "The  Pilgrim  Republic" 
by  John  A.  Goodwin. 

(  479  ) 


Though  their  faith  was  positive  and  strong,  they  laid  down 
no  formal  creed.  John  Robinson  taught  them  that  "the  Lord 
had  more  truth  and  light  yet  to  break  forth  out  of  His  holy 
word,"  and  their  covenant  was  "to  walk  in  all  His  ways  made 
known,  or  to  be  made  known^  unto  them."  At  the  Lord's  table 
they  communed  with  pious  Episcopalians,  with  Calvinists  of 
the  French  and  Dutch  churches,  and  with  Presbyterians,  and 
recognized  the  spiritual  fraternity  of  all  who  hold  the  faith. 

NOTE  3 

Extract  from  Diary 

November  20,  19 14 

It  is  forty-eight  years  ago  to-day  since  our  first  arrival  in  Dres- 
den. It  was  a  dismal  day,  the  air  being  full  of  mingled  snow  and 
hail,  which  also  frosted  the  buildings  and  streets;  but  our  young 
hearts  were  full  of  confidence  and  hope,  which  raised  us  above 
the  gloom  in  which  the  city  was  shrouded. 

We  had  arrived  in  time  to  observe  with  interest  and  sym- 
pathy the  construction  of  the  North  German  Bund.  Later  we 
applauded  the  superb  national  spirit  through  which  the  union 
of  all  the  German  states  was  consummated  in  1870.  Since  then, 
we  have  rejoiced  in  the  rapid  growth  of  German  industries  and 
in  the  extent  of  her  commerce  throughout  the  world.  And  now 
we  ask  ourselves,  are  these  great  triumphs  of  German  genius  to 
be  vastly  extended  by  force,  or  is  Germany  to  find  her  way  to 
legitimate  victory  through  complete  military  defeat? 

What  could  this  people  not  do  were  they  not  possessed  by  the 
mania  of  military  conquest!  They  have  convinced  themselves 
that  their  cause  is  just,  yet  they  have  no  friends,  except  the 
rulers  of  Austria  and  Turkey.  The  military  system  by  which  the 

(480) 


whole  male  population  was  trained  for  the  defense  of  the  coun- 
try was  originally  the  result  of  true  patriotism;  but  now,  having 
become  the  chief  passion  of  the  nation,  it  is  working  its  own 
ruin.  It  does  not  seem  possible  that  Germany  can  win,  for  the 
interests  of  all  the  world  are  opposed  to  her  domination. 

We  are  witnessing  the  conflict  of  forces  the  issue  of  which  no 
man  can  clearly  see;  we  can  only  hope  and  pray  that  when  this 
diabolical  strife  has  passed,  a  workable  system  may  be  evolved, 
under  which  all  nations  shall  be  obliged  to  live  at  peace  with 
each  other, 

NOTE  4 
Extract  from  Lichnowsky's  "Memorandum  " 

INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CROWN 

The  King,  very  amiable  and  well  meaning  and  possessed  of 
sound  understanding  and  common  sense,  was  invariably  well 
disposed  toward  me  and  desired  honestly  to  facilitate  my  mis- 
sion. In  spite  of  the  small  amount  of  power  which  the  British 
Constitution  gives  the  Crown,  the  King  can,  by  virtue  of  his 
position,  greatly  influence  the  tone  both  of  society  and  the  Gov- 
ernment. The  Crown  is  the  apex  of  society  from  which  the  tone 
emanates.  Society,  which  is  overwhelmingly  Unionist,  is  largely 
occupied  by  ladies  connected  with  politics.  It  is  represented  in 
the  Lords  and  the  Commons,  consequently  also  in  the  Cabinet. 

The  Englishman  either  belongs  to  society  or  ought  to  belong 
to  it.  His  aim  is,  and  always  will  be,  to  be  a  distinguished  man 
and  a  gentleman,  and  even  men  of  modest  origin,  such  as  Mr. 
Asquith,  prefer  to  be  in  society,  with  its  elegant  women. 

British  gentlemen  of  both  parties  enjoy  the  same  education, 
go  to  the  same  colleges  and  universities,  and  engage  in  the  same 
sports — golf,  cricket,  lawn  tennis  and  polo.  All  have  played 

(481   ) 


cricket  and  football  in  their  youth,  all  have  the  same  habits,  and 
all  spend  the  week-end  in  the  country.  No  social  cleavage  di- 
vides the  parties,  only  political  cleavage.  To  some  extent  of  late 
years  the  politicians  in  the  two  camps  have  avoided  one  another 
in  society.  Not  even  on  the  ground  of  a  neutral  mission  could 
the  two  camps  be  amalgamated,  for  since  the  Home  Rule  and 
Veto  bills  the  Unionists  have  despised  the  Radicals.  A  few 
months  after  my  arrival  the  King  and  Queen  dined  with  me, 
and  Lord  Londonderry  left  the  house  after  dinner  in  order  not 
to  be  with  Sir  Edward  Grey.  But  there  is  no  opposition  from 
difference  in  caste  and  education  as  in  France.  There  are  not 
two  worlds,  but  the  same  world,  and  their  opinion  of  a  foreigner 
is  common  and  not  without  influence  on  his  political  standing, 
whether  a  Lansdowne  or  an  Asquith  is  at  the  helm. 

POLITICS  AND  SOCIETY 

The  difference  of  caste  no  longer  exists  in  England  since  the 
time  of  the  Stuarts  and  since  the  Whig  oligarchy  (in  contra- 
distinction to  the  Tory  county  families)  allowed  the  bourgeoisie 
in  the  towns  to  rise  in  society.  There  is  greater  difference  in 
poHtical  opinions  on  Constitutional  or  Church  questions  than 
on  financial  or  political  questions.  Aristocrats  who  have  joined 
the  popular  party.  Radicals  such  as  Grey,  Churchill,  Harcourt, 
and  Crewe,  are  most  hated  by  the  Unionist  aristocracy.  None 
of  these  gentlemen  have  I  ever  met  in  great  aristocratic  houses, 
only  in  the  houses  of  party  friends. 

We  were  received  in  London  with  open  arms,  and  both  par- 
ties outdid  one  another  in  amiability. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  undervalue  social  connections  in 
view  of  the  close  connection  in  England  between  society  and 
politics,  even  though  the  majority  of  the  upper  ten  thousand 

(482  ) 


are  in  opposition  to  the  Government.  Between  an  Asquith  and 
a  Devonshire  there  is  no  such  deep  cleft  as  between  a  Briand 
and  a  Due  de  Doudeauville,  for  example.  In  times  of  political 
tension  they  do  not  foregather.  They  belong  to  two  separate 
social  groups,  but  are  part  of  the  same  society,  if  on  different 
levels,  the  centre  of  which  is  the  Court.  They  have  friends  and 
habits  in  common,  they  are  often  related  or  connected.  A  phe- 
nomenon like  Lloyd  George,  a  man  of  the  people,  a  small  solici- 
tor and  a  self-made  man,  is  an  exception.  Even  John  Burns,  a 
Socialist  Labour  leader  and  a  self-taught  man,  seeks  society  re- 
lations. On  the  ground  of  a  general  striving  to  be  considered 
gentlemen  of  social  weight  and  position  such  men  must  not  be 
undervalued. 

In  no  place,  consequently,  is  an  envoy's  social  circle  of  greater 
consequence  than  in  England.  An  hospitable  house  with  friend- 
guests  is  worth  more  than  the  profoundest  scientific  knowledge, 
and  a  learned  man  of  insignificant  appearance  and  too  small 
means  would,  in  spite  of  all  his  learning,  acquire  no  influence. 
The  Briton  hates  a  bore  and  a  pedant.  He  loves  a  good  fellow. 

NOTE  5 

Translation 
I  speak  not  of  the  tooth  of  time, 
The  tooth's  own  time  is  drawing  nigh. 
Is  Jenkins  then  within  this  clime? 
Time  and  its  tooth  I  will  defy. 

Mrs.  Wagner  wrote  at  the  same  time: 

Dear  Mr.  Jenkins  :  My  husband  sends  you  his  thanks  in  words 
and  tones,  but  I  will  not  let  the  score  of  his  greatest  work  go  to 
your  address,  without  adding  how  much  I  am  obliged  to  you 

(483 ) 


for  having  come  to  him,  and  I  hope  you  kept  as  good  a  remem- 
brance from  our  house  as  we  did  from  your  visit. 

With  best  regards  to  you  and  Mrs.  Jenkins  I  renew  the  ex- 
pression of  my  thanks. 

CosiMA  Wagner 
Bayreuth,  October  9,  1879. 

NOTE  6 

Translation 
Dear  Mr.  Jenkins: 

In  remembrance  of  our  mutual  hope  and  with  this  token  of 
friendship,  I  cry  to  you.  Long  live  America! 

At  the  same  time  Mrs.  Wagner  wrote: 
Dear  Mr.  Jenkins: 

My  husband  sends  you  his  very  best  regards  with  the  American 
March.  I  join  with  him  and  give  you  my  thanks  for  all  nice 
things  which  come  from  you,  for  the  fun  in  Eva's  album  which 
contains  such  a  serious  meaning,  for  the  excellent  oysters,  but 
before  all  for  your  and  Mrs.  Jenkins's  kind  feelings  to  us. 
I  hope  you  are  all  quite  well  again  and  enjoy  if  not  spring 

coming,  at  least  the  vanishing  of  winter. 

C.  Wagner 
February  9,  1879 

NOTE  7 
Translation 
He  only  deserves  liberty  like  life 
Who  daily  must  achieve  {erobern)  it. 
The  word  erobern  suggested  to  the  secretary,  who  apparently 
imperfectly  understood  German,  the  idea  of  robbery,  or  he  at- 
tempted a  poor  pun. 

(484) 


NOTE  8 

LlEBER  SEHR  GEEHRTER  HeRR  UND  FrEUNd! 

Es  kommt  mir  so  vor  als  ob  mir  bald  die  Geduld  im  BetrefF 
meiner  Hoffnungen  auf  Deutschland  und  seiner  Zukunft  aus- 
gehen  und  ich  dann  bereuen  diirfte,  den  Samen  meiner  Kunst- 
werke  und  Ideen  nicht  langst  schon  einem  fruchtbareren  and 
hoffnungsreicheren  Boden  iibergeben  zu  haben. 

Ich  halte  es  nicht  fiir  unmoglich,  dass  ich  mich  entschliesse 
mit  meiner  ganzen  FamiHe  und  meinem  letzten  Werke  fiir  im- 
mer  nach  Amerika  auszuwandern.  Da  ich  nicht  mehr  jung  bin, 
bediirfte  ich  hierfiir  ein  sehr  bedeutendes  Entgegenkommen  von 
jenseits  des  Oceans.  Es  miisste  sich  dort  eine  Association  bilden 
welche  mir  zu  meiner  Niederlassung  und  als  einmalige  Bezah- 
lung  aller  meiner  Bemiihungen  ein  Vermogen  von  einer  Million 
Dollars  zur  Verfiigung  stellte,  deren  eine  Halfte  auf  meiner 
Niederlassung  in  einer  klimatisch  vortheilhaft  gelegenen  Stadt 
der  Union,  deren  andere  jedoch  als  Kapital-Vermogen  in  einer 
Staatsbank  zu  5%  anlegbar  zu  verwenden  sein  wiirde.  Hiermit 
hatte  mich  Amerika  Europa  fur  alle  Zeiten  abgekauft.  Die  Asso- 
ciation hatte  ferner  den  Fonds  fur  die  alljahrlich  zu  veranstal- 
tenden  Festspiele  zusammenzubringen,  mit  denen  ich  allmah- 
lich  meine  sammtlichen  Werke  mustergiltig  zur  AufFiihrung 
bringen  wiirde;  diese  wiirden  allsbald  mit  der^rj/^«  Auffiihrung 
meines  neusten  Werkes  Parsifal  beginnen,  welches  ich  bis  dahin 
nirgends  anderswo  zur  Auffiihrung  iibergeben  wiirde.  Alle  kiinf- 
tigen  Leistungen  meinerseits  sei  es  als  Leiter  von  Auffiihrungen, 
oder  als  schopfender  Kiinstler,  wiirden,  auf  Grund  des  mir  iiber- 
gebenen  Vermogens,  fiir  alle  Zeiten  unentgeltlich  der  Ameri- 
kanischen  Nation  angehohren. 

Mir  kam  nun  die  Erinnerung,  dass  Sie,  in  freundschaftlichem 

(485) 


Eifer,  bei  Ihrem  letzten  Besuch  sich  mir  erboten,  wenn  ich  eine 
sogenannte  Kunstreise  in  Amerika  machen  woUte,  meine  Ge- 
schafte  fiihren  zu  wollen.  Mogen  Sie  es  nun  begreiflich  finden, 
dass  ich  jetzt  auf  Sie,  und  keinen  Anderen  verfalle  um  Ihnen 
meine  bei  weiterm  durchgreifenderen  Gedanken  mitzutheilen. 
Eine  blosse  Kunstreise,  um  so  und  so  viel  Geld  mit  Konzertge- 
ben  zu  verdienen  und  dann  wieder  nach  Deutschlandzuriickzu- 
kehren,  wurde  nie  meine  Sache  sein.  Nur  eine  vollstandige 
Ubersiedelung  hatte  fiir  mich  einen  Sinn. 

Wollen  Sie  giitigst  hieriiber  ein  wenig  mit  sich  zu  Rath 
gehen,  und  falls  Ihnen  dieses  gut  diinkt,  Ihre  Ansicht  mir 
mittheilen. 

Translation 

Dear  and  much  esteemed  friend: 

It  seems  to  me  as  if,  in  my  hopes  regarding  Germany  and  her 
future,  my  patience  would  very  soon  be  exhausted  and  that  I 
might  then  repent  not  having  long  ago  confided  the  seeds  of  the 
ideas  embodied  in  my  art  creations  to  a  more  fruitful  and  prom- 
ising soil. 

I  do  not  regard  it  as  impossible  that  I  might  still  conclude  to 
emigrate  to  America  with  my  latest  works  and  my  entire  fam- 
ily. For  this,  since  I  am  no  longer  young,  considerable  advances 
from  across  the  ocean  would  be  necessary.  An  Association  would 
have  to  be  formed  which  would  offer  me,  upon  condition  of  my 
permanent  settlement  there  and  as  an  indemnity  once  for  all  for 
my  exertions,  a  sum  of  one  million  dollars,  of  which  one-half 
would  be  placed  at  my  disposal  upon  taking  up  my  residence 
in  some  State  of  the  Union  with  favourable  climate,  the  other 
half  being  invested  as  capital  in  a  Government  bank  at  five  per 
cent.  Thus  would  America  have  bought  me  from  Europe  for  all 

(486) 


time.  Furthermore,  the  Association  would  have  to  furnish 
funds  for  the  annual  special  performances  in  which  I  should 
gradually  bring  all  my  works  in  model  form  upon  the  stage. 
These  would  begin  immediately  with  the  first  performance 
of  my  most  recent  work,  "Parsifal,"  which  up  to  that  time  I 
should  allow  to  be  given  nowhere  else.  All  results  of  future  la- 
bours on  my  part,  whether  in  superintendence  of  performances, 
or  in  direct  art  productions,  would,  by  reason  of  the  sum  made 
over  to  me,  belong  for  all  time  and  without  further  compensa- 
tion to  the  American  Nation. 

Now  it  occurred  to  me  that  on  your  last  visit  here,  in  the  en- 
thusiasm of  friendship,  you  offered  to  assist  me  in  case  I  should 
ever  wish  to  make  a  so-called  artist's  tour  in  America.  You  will 
therefore  find  it  natural  that  I  should  turn  to  you  and  to  no 
other  to  explain  my  very  much  more  far-reaching  ideas.  A  mere 
artist's  tour,  to  make  so  and  so  much  money  by  concert  giving 
and  then  return  to  Germany,  would  never  be  an  affair  of  mine. 
Only  a  permanent  emigration  could  have  for  me  any  signifi- 
cance. 

Will  you  take  a  little  counsel  with  yourself  in  regard  to 
this  matter  and,  if  it  impresses  you  favourably,  give  me  your 
opinion. 

In  warmest  friendship,  yours  faithfully, 

Richard  Wagner 
February  8,  1880 
Naples,  Villa  Angri,  Posilipo. 


(487) 


NOTE  9 

Translation 

Kiel,  February  i8,  1902 
My  dear  and  much  esteemed  colleague: 
The  friendly  relations  subsisting  between  America  and  Ger- 
many, which  have  recently  received  a  new  impetus  through  the 
visit  of  Prince  Henry,  lead  me  to  believe  that  a  portrait  of  our 
most  gracious  Emperor  would  not  be  unwelcome  to  you. 

I  allow  myself  therefore,  to  send  you,  as  a  token  of  my  great 
and  abiding  gratitude,  the  accompanying  portrait,  for  which  I 
beg  your  kindly  acceptance. 

In  greatest  esteem,  your  grateful  and  obedient 

Dr.  Friedrich  von  Esmarch 

NOTE  10 

B.  18.  January  79 
Stand  forth,  thou  successful  lecturer!  and  receive  thy  reward. 
Every  one  was  pleased  and  instructed.  The  plan  was  excellent 
and  excellently  carried  out.  Your  lecture  was  a  fine  painting 
and  a  just  judgement;  for  England  appears  in  history  a  grand, 
noble  &  mighty  element.  A  friend  of  mine,  some  time  ago,  made 
a  speech  at  a  public  dinner  in  London,  and  said:  You  accuse  us 
Yankees  of  being  a  bragging  people;  and  we  admit  the  accusa- 
tion; and  what  we  most  brag  about  is  that  we  descend  from  you. 
And  now  for  the  faults.  Brace  yourself  up  like  a  man  and 
listen.  The  bad  feature  of  your  lecture  was  that  you  omitted  to 
mention  another  instance  of  Anglo-Saxon  enterprise.  You  spoke 
of  the  brave  navigators  who  vainly  sought  the  pole  thro,  the 
perils  of  the  arctic  regions;  and  the  explorers  who,  through  the 
dangers  of  the  burning  desert,  had  sought  the  sources  of  the 

(488   ) 


Nile;  but  you  said  nothing  of  the  skill  and  daring  of  another 
adventurer  who,  17  January,  1879,  in  the  city  of  Dresden,  in  the 
Kingdom  of  Saxony,  successfully  sought  the  very  best  subject 
for  a  lecture  and  treated  it  with  greater  success  than  has  at- 
tended polar  expeditions  or  explorations  in  Africa. 

Now  I  say  go  on,  and  let  us  have  another  lecture. 

With  congratulations  &  Griisse  to  all 

Sincerely  Yrs. 

Theo.  S.  Fay 

NOTE  II 

Paris,  January  12,  191 1 

Dear  Leonard,  dear  Satia,  dear  Helen,  dear  John: 

At  last,  after  the  greater  part  of  the  European  correspondence 
necessitated  by  the  celebration  of  my  70th  birthday  has  been 
attended  to,  I  catch  my  breath  and  sit  down  for  a  letter  to  you, 
as  a  most  agreeable  change  from  the  other  style  of  correspond- 
ence. There  are  still  loads  of  letters  and  cards  to  be  written,  but 
the  most  pressing  ones  are  behind  me. 

I  knew  that  my  dear  colleagues  were  preparing  surprises  for 
me,  but  I  had  no  conception  that  they  would  distance  all  pre- 
vious records  of  such  festivities.  For  some  months  the  commit- 
tee of  the  Am,  Dental  Club  of  Paris,  of  which  body  Dr.  Hirsch- 
feld  was  secretary  and  moving  spirit,  had  been  making  plans  to 
have  it  go  off  nicely,  and  everything  came  off  exactly  as  planned. 

The  banquet  hall  was  of  itself  magnificent,  but  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  table  was  admirable,  being  a  long  table  with  a  T  at 
each  end,  so  that  the  men  were  as  near  to  each  other  as  possible 
and  no  one  sat  with  his  back  to  another.  And  the  ornamentation 
of  the  table  was  worthy  of  the  splendid  hall.  We  were  eighty 

(489  ) 


men  at  table  and  the  guests  were  interspersed  between  the 
members  of  the  Club.  I  sat  at  the  middle  of  the  table,  at  the 
right  of  the  president  of  the  Club,  and  at  my  right  sat  the  son 
of  my  dearest  friend.  Abbot,  even  Cape  himself.  Opposite  to  me 
were  the  most  renowned  colleagues  in  France  and  everything 
was  so  cleverly  arranged  that  every  man  could  feel  that  he  oc- 
cupied a  seat  of  honour.  I  am  sending  you  a  menu,  into  which 
that  blessed  Mumps  has  written  lots  of  things  which  couldn't 
be  printed  beforehand  and  from  which  you  will  get  some  idea 
of  the  overpowering  character  of  the  honours  and  tokens  of  re- 
gard which  were  heaped  upon  me.  In  all  the  history  of  my  pro- 
fession nothing  equal  to  it  has  ever  occurred  before,  but  you 
must  not  conclude  that  it  was  all  personal.  I  chance  to  represent 
one  of  the  few  survivors  of  the  pioneers  of  American  dentistry 
abroad,  and  the  younger  men  and  the  European  colleagues  were 
glad  of  a  chance  to  show  their  appreciation  of  what  the  men  of 
my  class  have  done.  But  there  was  enough  of  the  personal  ele- 
ment in  it  to  lend  light  and  colour  and  to  excite  the  emotion 
which  is  the  fine  flavour  of  such  a  festival.  Indeed,  it  was  good  to 
see  how  sincerely  they  all  seemed  to  feel  towards  me.  I  knew,  in 
a  general  way,  that  my  colleagues  were  well  disposed  towards 
me,  but  I  did  not  before  suspect  that  they  had  so  much  real 
affection  for  me,  and  to  be  made  to  realize  this  gave  me  as  pure 
a  feeling  of  happiness  as  is  possible  in  this  world  I  do  believe. 

The  honours  were  great  and  unprecedented  and  the  gifts  were 
royal  and  I  was  glad  of  them,  but  to  experience  such  evidences 
of  loving  friendship  was  divine.  Love  begets  love,  and  I  knew 
that  all  the  men  present  and  the  innumerable  colleagues  who 
were  with  us  in  spirit,  had  never  known  me  to  do  or  say  any- 
thing nasty  behind  any  man's  back,  or  had  ever  received  any- 

(  490  ) 


thing  but  kindness  from  me,  but  I  did  not  dream  that  my  regard 
for  them  would  ever  be  repaid  in  such  abounding  measure. 

I  shall  collect  the  speeches  and  print  the  whole  proceedings 
and  you  will  see  when  you  read  it  what  I  mean. 

The  gold  medal  from  the  Societe  d'Odontologie  de  Paris  is  the 
greatest  dental  distinction  obtainable  in  France  and  has  been 
but  very  rarely  given.  Indeed,  all  the  distinctions  were  of  an 
overwhelming  nature  in  number  and  quality. 

And  the  gifts! — Well,  I  never  dreamed  of  possessing  things  so 
rich  and  rare.  It  was  lovely  of  the  givers  of  the  stately  tea  serv- 
ice to  engrave  it  with  Mumps'  name  also.  The  Mummerys  se- 
lected the  tray  and  candelabra  of  Sheffield  plate  to  suit  Thor- 
wald.  It  is  very  unusual  to  find  good  pieces  of  old  Sheffield  in 
our  day,  and  these  beautiful  pieces  are  of  the  best  period  and 
all  worked  by  hand.  It  is  more  valuable  than  silver.  And  the 
silver  gilt  plate,  presented  by  Ottolengui  and  Rhine  and  the  two 
Tracys  and  Ash  and  van  Wurt  and  Schmidt  and  Davenport  and 
Gillert  and  McManus  and  our  own  dear  Gaylord,  is  the  most 
beautiful  piece  of  the  kind  that  ever  was.  And  the  watch  is 
really  the  finest  and  most  practicable  repeater  I  ever  saw  and 
it  has  already  been  a  great  comfort  to  us  in  the  stilly  night. 

So  you  see  that  it  was  a  "glorious  golden  party,"  and  that 
Mumps  was  behind  a  screen  and  saw  and  heard  it  all,  herself 
unseen. 

But  the  most  delightful  of  all  was  the  dear  letter  from  you  all 
four  and  the  letters  and  gifts  from  Nora  and  Leslie  and  Daislein. 
The  dressing  gown  was  really  superb  and  at  the  same  time  most 
practical.  And  that  Daislein  sent  me  the  sweetest  of  letters,  but 
she  had  a  lovely  photo  of  that  Mumps  when  she  was  a  girl  en- 
larged, and  I  received  it  before  I  was  out  of  bed  in  the  morning. 

(  491   ) 


Perhaps  you  will  send  this  letter  to  Nora,  Not  the  menu,  she 
will  have  one  of  her  own. 

It  will  still  be  some  days  before  I  can  begin  to  write  the  Amer- 
ican colleagues.  I  can't  even  write  Gaylord  and  Hosley  yet,  for  I 
must  keep  to  my  plan  or  I  shall  never  get  through.  I  was  much 
pleased  with  Hosley *s  tribute  and  Gaylord  sent  me  a  most 
lovely  telegram. 

Sometime  it  may  be  that  I  can  come  down  to  prosaic  things 
again,  but  for  awhile  I  must  think  chiefly  of  the  responsibility 
and  delight  of  having  a  seventieth  birthday. 

With  most  dear  love  to  you  all,  I  am 

Das  Geburtstagskind 

P.  S.  But  the  most  important  thing  I  have  forgotten  in  the  tur- 
moil in  which  I  am  writing;  the  Geburtstagskuchen  and  my  new 
title.  The  Kuchen  was  great!  It  was  a  true  work  of  art.  It  came 
with  its  seventy-one  candles  and  was,  of  course,  a  large  cake  in 
consequence,  but  French  art  had  made  it  look  graceful  and 
small.  I  had  it  displayed  at  our  reception  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  twenty-ninth  and  it  excited  much  interest.  On  the  thirtieth 
there  was  a  great  luncheon  at  Hirschfeld's  especially  for  the 
Germans  and  I  had  the  cake  lighted  there  and  a  very  pretty  and 
well  appreciated  sight  it  was  and  we  all  ate  of  it  abundantly  and 
with  much  gusto. 

It  was  also  very  nice  of  the  King  to  make  me  a  Geheimer 
Hofrat.  It  is  the  first  time  that  a  Zahnarzt  has  been  made  a 
Geheimrat  and  so  my  colleagues  of  the  German  persuasion,  who 
understand  what  it  means,  are  much  elated.  There  are  many 
reasons  why  I  am  particularly  pleased,  but  I  dread  being 
obliged  to  ask  for  an  audience  to  say  "thanks."  It  will  give  me 
a  certain  prestige  and  influence  which  may  be  of  use  in  many 

(  492  ) 


ways  and  anyway  it  is  a  sign  and  symbol  of  the  favour  of  the 
Crown  and  the  goodwill  of  my  Dresden  friends,  which  is  pleas- 
ing to  the  soul. 

NOTE  12 

In  the  course  of  my  prolonged  life  I  have  known  twenty-two 
wars  which  have  had  results  leading  to,  or  influencing,  condi- 
tions which  have  made  possible  the  terrible  World  War.  There 
have  been  numerous  other  wars  as  well  during  this  long  period 
of  time,  staining  with  blood  all  the  continents  and  the  islands 
of  the  sea,  but  as  they  have  been  chiefly  of  local  significance,  I 
will  not  venture  to  enumerate  them.  The  twenty-two  wars  re- 
ferred to  are  as  follows. 


I 

Mexican  War  with  the  United  States 

I 846-1 848 

2 

Revolution  in  Germany  and  Austria 

I 848-1 849 

3 

Crimean  War  (England,  France,  Turkey,  Russia) 

1854-1856 

4 

Indian  Mutiny 

1857-1858 

5 

French,  Austrian  and  Italian  War 

1859 

6 

American  Civil  War 

1861-1865 

7 

Danish-Russian  War 

1864 

8 

French  and  Mexican  War 

1 864-1 867 

9 

Austrian,  Prussian  and  Italian  War 

1866 

10 

German-French  War 

1870 

II 

Russian-Turkish  War 

1 877-1 878 

12 

War  in  Egypt  and  Soudan 

1882-1900 

13 

Serbian  and  Bulgarian  War 

1886 

14 

Greek  and  Turkish  War 

1877 

15 

Spanish-American  War 

1898 

16 

Boer  and  English  War 

1 899-1902 

17 

Chinese  War,  International 

1900 

18 

Japanese  and  Russian  War 

1905 

19 

Italian-Turkish  War 

1911-1912 

20 

First  Balkan  War 

1912-1913 

21 

Second  Balkan  War 

1913-1914 

22 

The  W'orld  War 

1914-1918 

(  493  ) 


SOME  THOUGHTS  ABOUT  ROYALTIES 

Upon  arriving  in  Europe  I  possessed  the  ordinary  American 
conviction  regarding  monarchical  forms  of  government.  Amer- 
ica had  come  triumphantly  through  the  Civil  War.  Slavery  had 
been  abolished.  The  movement  of  a  few  thousand  seasoned 
American  troops  to  the  Mexican  border  and  a  polite,  but  em- 
phatic note  from  the  American  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Seward, 
to  the  government  of  Napoleon  III  sufficed  to  hasten  the  de- 
parture of  the  French  army  from  Mexico,  leaving  poor,  deluded 
Maximilian  to  the  inevitable  fate  he  met  at  last  so  gallantly. 

By  Americans  of  that  time  monarchs  were  regarded  as  more 
to  be  pitied  than  feared  and  as  certain  to  be  at  last  eliminated 
through  the  general  growth  of  political  enlightenment.  Some 
monarchs  also  had  their  usefulness.  Without  Victor  Emanuel, 
Garibaldi  would  never  have  seen  a  united  Italy.  Without  King 
William,  Bismarck  could  not  have  overthrown  Austrian  influ- 
ence in  Germany.  Queen  Victoria  and  the  Prince  Consort  were 
regarded  as  friendly  to  the  Federal  Government  during  our 
Civil  War,  while  the  British  aristocracy  were  almost  a  unit  in 
favour  of  the  Confederacy. 

I  came  therefore  to  Germany  with  an  open  mind.  If  there 
were  any  advantages  in  a  monarchical  form  of  government,  I 
was  willing  to  concede  them. 

Our  first  impressions  were  favourable.  Upon  landing  on  Ger- 
man soil,  we  could  not  but  admire  the  order,  cleanliness  and 
system  which  everywhere  prevailed.  The  country  was  cultivated 
like  a  garden.  There  were  no  slums  apparent  in  the  towns  and  no 
wretchedly  poor  in  filthy  and  tattered  raiment  to  be  seen  any- 
where and  no  open  drunkenness.  Rich  and  poor  lived  together 
in  the  same  houses  in  the  great  cities,  the  latter  inhabiting  the 

(  494  ) 


cellars  and  the  upper  story,  and  felt  a  common  kindly  interest 
in  each  other. 

Municipal  government  seemed  wholly  apart  from  partisan 
politics.  It  was  a  joint  stock  company  business,  existing  only  for 
the  common  good  and  none  of  the  funds  of  the  municipality 
were  lost,  wasted  or  stolen.  It  was  a  profession  to  be  a  mayor. 
He  was  chosen  by  the  Municipal  Council,  whose  interest  it  was 
to  obtain  the  best  man  possible  and  to  keep  him  as  many  years 
as  he  was  efficient.  He  and  the  sub-mayors  were  well  paid  and 
they  had  no  chance  for  malfeasance  in  office  and  no  incentive 
to  it.  I  remember  when  the  Dresdner  chief  mayor,  Photenhauer, 
announced  that  upon  a  certain  date  he  would  resign  on  account 
of  failing  health,  that  a  somewhat  demagogic  newspaper  sug- 
gested calling  the  chief  mayor  of  Chemnitz  to  Dresden,  because 
he  was  of  a  distinguished  citizen  family  and  a  man  of  fortune 
and  had  shown  great  ability  in  managing  the  affairs  of  Chem- 
nitz during  years  of  rapid  development.  He  was  also  in  the 
prime  of  life  and  it  might  be  hoped  that  he  would  continue  to 
serve  for  many  years.  At  once  the  proposal  was  acclaimed  and 
the  new  mayor,  Stiibel,  served  long  and  well.  He  became  my 
patient  and  friend  and  helped  me  to  understand  something  of 
the  theory  and  practice  of  the  Saxon  system  of  municipal  gov- 
ernment. 

During  Stiibel's  term  it  was  determined  to  build  a  new  bridge 
on  the  Elbe  to  connect  the  rapidly  expanding  sections  of  Alt- 
and  Neustadt.  The  Council  decided  to  send  to  Italy  for  masons 
and  paid  double  the  wages  given  to  native  stone  masons,  for  the 
reason  that  the  Italians  were  better  workmen.  This  was  a  tra- 
dition with  Dresden,  for  the  beautiful  old  bridge  of  nearly  500 
years  ago  was  built  by  Italian  workmen  and  when  it  was  re- 
placed a  few  years  before  the  war  by  a  more  convenient  struc- 

(  495  ) 


ture,  it  was  found  fit  to  stand  for  a  thousand  years  had  it  been 
necessary. 

An  American  engineer,  living  in  Dresden  during  the  building 
of  the  bridge  in  Stiibel's  time,  told  me  that,  in  the  long  summer 
twilight,  the  Italian  workmen  would  come  out  after  supper  and, 
with  folded  arms,  stand  and  regard  their  work,  planning  to  do 
even  better,  if  possible,  the  next  day;  for,  to  a  man,  they  were 
artists  and  rejoiced  in  the  work  of  their  hands. 

When  the  graceful  structure  was  finished,  no  one  was  justly 
able  to  find  fault  either  with  the  design  or  the  execution  of  the 
work,  which  was  completed  three  weeks  before  the  time  con- 
tracted for  and  for  which  the  cost  was  three  hundred  thousand 
marks  less  than  the  estimates. 

There  were  innumerable  evidences  among  the  Saxon  people 
that  they  were  content  with  their  government  and  devoted  to 
their  Royal  Family.  The  laws  were  just,  but  were  administered 
with  a  sort  of  fatherly  benevolence,  which  was  often  most 
touching  in  its  kindly  consideration  of  the  ignorant  and  the 
poor.  Criminals  from  the  educated  classes  were,  however,  more 
sternly  treated.  I  remember  an  incident  of  a  certain  rich  crimi- 
nal, to  whom  the  judge,  when  pronouncing  sentence,  explained 
that  the  heaviest  penalty  of  the  law  was  visited  upon  him,  be- 
cause he  was  rich,  powerful  and  in  an  exalted  position  and, 
therefore,  his  guilt  was  greater  than  would  have  been  the  case 
with  an  obscure  man. 

Everywhere  evidence  of  the  consideration  of  the  Crown  for 
the  people  was  observed.  When  we  were  living  in  Dresden,  its 
largest  park  was  royal  property,  in  the  center  of  which  stood  a 
palace,  which  Augustus  the  Strong  had  built  to  minister  to  his 
rather  objectionable  pleasures.  In  King  John's  reign  the  palace 
had  been  used  as  a  museum,  and  palace  and  park  were  freely 

(496) 


open  to  the  public.  Everything  was  kept  in  beautiful  order, 
wholly  at  the  royal  charge  and  the  worthy  burghers  enjoyed  it 
to  the  full,  much  more  than  if  they  had  been  obliged  to  pay  for 
it  themselves.  Not  that  the  Dresdeners  were  not  generous  in  the 
care  of  their  own  parks;  they  were  not  only  generous,  but  prodi- 
gal in  their  gifts.  Some  generations  ago,  the  owner  of  the  most 
important  newspaper  left  in  his  will  a  large  sum,  the  interest  of 
which  was  to  be  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  flowers  in  the 
small  public  parks — this  bequest  had  made  Dresden,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  Paris,  the  city  most  distinguished  for  the 
beauty  of  its  floral  decorations.  But  indications  of  the  kindly 
intent  of  the  Royal  House  were  everywhere  in  evidence.  Not 
only  the  famous  Royal  Picture  Gallery  was  open  to  the  public> 
but  innumerable  other  priceless  Royal  collections  as  well,  under 
conditions  which  enlarged  their  usefulness  and  preserved  them 
from  injury  and  intelligently  increased  their  value  by  new  ac- 
quisitions and  improved  scientific  arrangement,  such  as  private 
ownership  and  public  responsibility  would  most  naturally 
provide. 

There  was  also  the  appeal  of  the  Royal  Opera  and  Theatre, 
which  reached  the  whole  people.  I  love  to  recall  those  years 
before  1870,  when  there  was  no  Dresdener  so  poor  that  he  could 
not  hear  the  best  music  or  behold  the  rendering  of  the  great 
masterpieces  of  dramatic  art  of  all  ages,  through  the  wise  benef- 
icence of  the  King. 

The  Saxon  Royal  Family  was  Roman  Catholic  and  yet  this 
seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the  mass  of  the  Saxon 
people,  who  were  largely  Lutheran.  I  am  writing  of  the  days 
when  the  proletariat  had  not  been  debauched  by  the  specious 
philosophy  of  Marx  or  by  socialism  and  materialism.  The  Royal 
Family  was  deeply  religious  and  the  Court  austere  and  free 

(  497  ) 


from  scandals.  Many  members  of  the  Court  came  to  me  as  pa- 
tients and  they  were  in  sharp  contrast  to  members  of  other 
courts  I  knew,  being  sedate,  serious,  gentle  in  spirit  and  man- 
ners and  giving  no  evidence  of  practising  constant  intrigue. 

But  officials  of  every  royal  court  were  unanimous  in  regard- 
ing their  own  King  as  the  wisest  and  best  of  monarchs.  I  remem- 
ber one  day  when  I  chanced  to  be  visited  by  three  gentlemen 
having  the  same  rank  at  different  German  courts.  They  had  all 
been  my  patients  for  some  time  and  it  was  a  curious  coincidence 
that  all  of  them  had  appointments  with  me  on  a  day  when  all 
Europe  was  excited  over  some  royal  scandal,  the  nature  of  which 
I  have  now  forgotten.  But  I  well  remember  the  Saxon  telling  me 
that  such  disgrace  could  not  come  to  the  Saxon  Court,  for  it 
possessed  a  blameless  King,  whose  like  was  elsewhere  not  to  be 
found.  The  gentleman  from  Hanover  and  the  gentleman  from 
Prussia  offered  me  the  same  grateful  information  almost  in  the 
same  words,  each  of  them  insisted  that  his  own  King  was  the 
brightest  example  of  royal  virtues  which  an  unworthy  world 
had  ever  seen.  This  was  no  pretense;  they  actually  believed  it. 
The  King  of  Saxony  and  the  King  of  Hanover  had  been  humili- 
ated and  the  latter  monarch  had  lost  his  throne,  but  they  had 
borne  their  sad  fate  with  great  dignity  and  had  preserved  their 
own  self-respect,  as  well  as  the  respect  and  affection  of  their 
people.  The  King  of  Prussia,  however,  posed  as  the  disinterested 
Liberator  of  Germany  from  the  Austrian  reactionary  influence 
and  all  his  courtiers  seemed  to  believe  that  he  was  the  man  des- 
tined by  Almighty  God,  because  of  his  virtues,  to  finally  bring 
about  the  unity  of  the  German  people.  King  John  had  returned 
from  Austria  to  his  capital  the  day  before  we  arrived  in  Dres- 
den. I  was  told  that  his  people  had  thronged  the  streets  and 
given  him  every  evidence  of  sympathy  and  devotion.  At  one 

(498  ) 


point,  when  the  royal  carriage  had  paused  for  a  moment  in  the 
throng,  a  sturdy  peasant  said  to  him:  *' Landesvater^  voir  theilen 
dein  Leidundbleiben  dirtreuy  ("  We  share  the  pain  of  the  Father 
of  our  country  and  are  faithful  to  him.") 

Gradually  I  came  to  have  some  royal  patients  and  found 
them  very  much  like  other  well-bred  people,  except  that  they 
spoke  with  greater  frankness  and  had  a  wider  range  of  curiosity 
and  information  regarding  most  diverse  subjects,  and  all  of 
them  seemed  to  possess  the  traditional  "royal  memory."  Later, 
when  I  came  to  know  something  of  the  education  of  princes  and 
what  stress  was  laid  upon  training  the  memory  and  learning  the 
art  of  conversation,  I  came  to  understand  how  important  these 
were  to  a  royal  personage.  Even  one  but  slightly  gifted  could  be 
made  presentable  through  such  training  and  to  really  intelligent 
princes  it  was  of  great  advantage.  By  royal  command  a  learned 
scholar,  or  any  eminent  man,  could  be  invited  to  court,  where, 
in  private  audience,  or  at  the  royal  table,  or  at  any  time  and  in 
any  way  convenient  to  his  host,  he  would  have  the  highly  ap- 
preciated honour  to  talk  about  the  subject  upon  which  he  was 
an  authority.  Aided  by  a  reliable  memory  and  skilled  in  asking 
leading  questions,  the  royal  personage  could  obtain  all  he  would 
need  to  know  upon  the  subject,  in  the  shortest  time  and  with 
the  least  trouble.  This  is  only  one  method  I  have  had  oppor- 
tunity to  observe  through  which  royalty  could  easily  gain  ac- 
quaintance with  new  theories,  systems,  inventions  and  discov- 
eries with  which  a  monarch  should  please  to  concern  himself. 

It  is  therefore  not  surprising  that  I  should  come  to  believe, 
even  if  monarchical  government  must  finally  pass  away  and 
democracy  reign  in  its  stead,  there  was  much  to  be  hoped  from 
the  more  enlightened  monarchical  governments  working  in  har- 
mony to  modify  the  great  change,  that  it  might  not  come  with 

(  499  ) 


violence.  Great  Britain  was  governed  by  the  Liberal  Party, 
Gladstone  advocated  Home  Rule  for  Ireland,  Brazil  had  be- 
come a  republic  almost  without  shedding  of  blood.  Her  wise 
Emperor  was  content  to  be  an  exile  and  would  not  intrigue 
against  the  Republic.  The  morning  light  was  breaking  and  kings 
and  emperors  would  finally  recognize  that  their  night  had  come. 

I  was  not  much  affected  by  the  glamour  of  royal  state.  It  was 
too  evident  that  it  was  designed  for  the  illusion  not  only  of  the 
people  but  of  royalty  itself.  It  was  a  cardinal  principle  that 
royalty  must  believe  in  its  divine  mission.  The  smallest  poten- 
tate was  taught  from  the  beginning  that  he  alone  could  repre- 
sent and  guard  the  interests  of  his  insignificant  principality  and 
that  those  interests,  as  he  understood  them,  were  of  supreme 
importance  to  his  people  and  the  world.  It  was  reported  that  a 
monarch  occupying  an  important  position,  the  kindly,  honest 
King  Friedrich  August  of  Saxony,  whose  goodness  of  heart  had 
endeared  him  to  his  court  and  personal  attendants,  when  told 
he  must  abdicate  upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolution,  con- 
sented less  unwillingly  than  might  have  been  expected,  but 
wondered  how  his  people  could  get  on  without  him.  Whether 
the  report  was  true  or  false,  in  character  it  was  true  to  nature. 

In  the  education  of  a  royal  prince  a  time  always  comes  when 
he  is  emancipated  from  strict  discipline  under  the  observation 
and  direction  of  his  royal  parents.  He  goes  into  the  world  as  a 
student,  or  travels  into  far  countries,  or  becomes  an  officer  in  a 
crack  regiment,  but  everywhere  his  surroundings  confirm  what 
he  has  been  taught  from  earliest  consciousness,  that  he  is  not  as 
other  men  are.  This  entrance  into  the  world  is  the  supreme  test 
of  character  with  a  prince,  even  as  with  a  wealthy  commoner, 
except  that  the  former  is  handicapped  by  traditions  and  convic- 
tions, from  the  pernicious  influence  of  which  the  latter  is  free. 

(  500  ) 


It  becomes  well-nigh  impossible  for  a  royal  prince,  ushered  into 
a  world  in  which  the  plain  truth  is  never  spoken  to  him  except 
by  accident  and  always  surrounded  by  flatterers  and  intriguers, 
to  long  retain  the  high  ideals  of  noble  living  and  service  which 
he  may  have  possessed  before  entering  a  corrupt  and  selfish 
world. 

One  striking  incident,  among  many,  but  which  occurred 
rather  early  in  my  experiences  and  impressed  me  deeply,  I  will 
relate  in  illustration  of  my  meaning.  During  his  studies  at  the 
Gymnasium  a  certain  prince  was  under  my  professional  care,  as 
was  his  entire  family,  for  a  long  time.  At  his  last  appointment 
before  going  out  into  the  world,  the  ingenuous  youth  brought 
me  his  photograph  and,  in  response  to  my  good  wishes,  told  me 
something  of  his  hopes.  He  said  that  he  felt  no  capacity  for  pub- 
lic affairs  and  was  averse  to  a  military  career  and  so  was  deter- 
mined to  become  a  good  man  of  business  and  manage  his  own 
estates.  He  saw  clearly  that  the  future  of  Germany  was  depend- 
ant upon  the  higher  cultivation  of  the  land  and  the  develop- 
ment of  all  possible  industries  on  landed  estates  as  well  as  in 
factories  and  mines,  and  wanted  to  have  a  part  in  the  advance 
of  the  great  economic  wave  which  was  beginning  to  sweep 
around  the  world.  With  all  my  heart  I  wished  him  Godspeed  in 
his  work  and  rejoiced  at  finding  a  prince  with  such  practical 
ambitions  and  who  was  thinking  how  best  to  serve  his  genera- 
tion rather  than  himself.  In  time  an  event  occurred  which  made 
it  necessary  for  him  to  become  a  member  of  the  Imperial  Court. 
It  was  his  ruin  and  I  have  often  mourned  over  the  debasement 
of  the  character  and  life  of  one  whose  promise  had  been  so 
bright. 

Royalties  have  always  been  the  victims  of  the  system  which 
made  them  possible.  Konig  originally  meant,  "the  man  who 

(501 ) 


can."  We  do  not  need  to  recall  the  far-off  history  and  legends  of 
the  ancient  East;  it  is  enough  for  our  purpose  to  remember  what 
savage  creatures  our  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors  were  and  how  their 
Mediterranean  contemporaries,  although  possessed  of  what  re- 
mains of  Greek  and  Roman  civilization,  waged  their  almost  in- 
cessant wars  in  the  same  barbaric  way,  inspired  by  the  same 
personal  ambitions.  He  who  was,  or  believed  himself  to  be  "the 
man  who  can"  plotted  against  and  raised  armies  to  cast  down 
his  own  brother  or  any  one  else  whose  authority  and  goods  he 
coveted  that  he  might  reign  in  his  stead.  Even  in  the  religious 
wars,  there  was  no  treachery  too  foul,  no  cruelty  too  horrible,  to 
stay  the  hand  of  the  assailant  or  the  defender  of  a  throne.  What 
untold  multitudes  of  ignorant  and  helpless  people  have  fought 
and  been  slain  in  these  dynastic  wars,  or  perished  in  the  pesti- 
lences which  followed  them.  The  ordinary  man's  inhumanity  to 
man  has  always  been  surpassed  by  the  inhumanity  of  kings. 

We  are  now  witnessing  in  these  early  days  of  May,  1919,  in 
which  I  am  writing,  the  most  dramatic  and  complete  overthrow 
of  the  monarchical  system  of  which  the  wildest  democratic  en- 
thusiast has  ever  ventured  to  dream.  And  now  the  startling 
wonder  is,  that  it  has  only  required  two  generations  of  the  most 
base  and  widespread  imperial  intrigue  and  open  and  secret  prep- 
aration for  war,  which  has  included  the  perversion  of  the  intelli- 
gence and  the  debauching  of  the  moral  sense  of  a  great  people, 
to  overthrow  the  monstrous  theory  that  "might  makes  right," 
under  which  the  human  heart  has  bled  ever  since  the  dawn  of 
history. 

My  children,  even  the  stupendous  victory  and  the  resulting 
liberation  of  oppressed  peoples,  and  the  League  of  Nations,  and 
the  imposing  of  severe  conditions  of  peace,  and  the  world-wide 
conviction  that  the  days  of  monarchical  tyranny  are  numbered 
(  502  ) 


will  not  bring  surcease  of  strife  in  your  time,  nor  in  that  of  your 
immediate  successors.  I  remember  after  the  American  Civil 
War,  the  Emancipation  Society  held  a  meeting  in  Boston  and 
dissolved  the  organization,  in  the  belief  that,  the  emancipation 
of  the  slaves  having  been  secured,  no  further  public  efforts  for 
reform  would  be  necessary.  Do  not  "lay  the  flattering  unction 
to  your  soul."  The  age-long  contest  between  good  and  evil,  be- 
tween Christ  and  Belial,  will  continue,  but  ever  in  new  form.  I 
have  tried  to  show  you,  in  my  poor  way,  how  the  principles  of 
liberty  and  justice  became  established  in  America,  and  you 
yourselves  have  seen  how  the  American  Government  delayed 
before  entering  upon  the  Great  War  and  then  how  there  came 
to  be,  both  with  the  Government  and  people,  a  true  crusade, 
undertaken  for  no  selfish  purpose,  but  to  prevent  forever  the 
forceful  enslavement  of  mankind.  America  alone  had  the  great 
vision  that  this  could  be  made  the  last  of  wars,  and  exactly  so 
far  as  your  generation  is  inspired  by  this  exalted  purpose,  just 
so  far  will  the  vision  become  a  reality.  In  your  time  also  you 
should  see  the  disappearance  of  royal  and  hereditary  govern- 
ment everywhere. 


